


Human Layers

by btvsp2082



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Season Rework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4468163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btvsp2082/pseuds/btvsp2082
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Season One, entirety of Season 2. What if the second season wasn't all about Buffy and Angel's train-wreck romance? What if Buffy and Cordelia had gotten together instead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I wrote this fourteen years ago. I feel old. Heh.
> 
> So this is the first multi-chapter story where I felt like I built the relationship and sold it pretty well. I also felt more comfortable with the character voices at this point. Not to say I haven't edited and re-written over the years, because I have. Posting it now, I've just gone through the prologue and first six chapters yet again. Once I finish going through the last half, I'll post the rest.
> 
> Every chapter takes place during some episode of the season (the prologue is set immediately after the last scene of "Prophecy Girl" in S1), so you'll recognize lots of show dialogue.
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

Sixteen-year-old Buffy Summers stood just inside the doors of Sunnydale High’s library on the night of the Spring Fling. Her hair was a wet disaster, not to mention the expensive, silk-white dress her mother had surprised her with for the dance. She'd have a hard time explaining when she got there—no rain.

To make things worse, she looked like she'd just escaped (this was the slightly implausible story she was going with) the clutches of a rabid dog. Hey, she _was_ bitten.

The lies of the Slayer/Chosen One had a kernel of truth.

Her friends, who’d already gone ahead, knew the whole. Xander, despite his jokey demeanor, saved her life from that...rabid dog. And Willow, Giles, Miss Calendar, Angel (whom she was maybe infatuated with)...hell, even Cordelia, had been there in the fight.

She and that unlikely group of people had just stopped a 600-year-old master vampire from opening the Mouth of Hell underneath her feet.  Where was her bonus? Right, she didn't get one. A heavy-on-the-responsibility job for a teenager that didn't pay?

This was her insane destiny, which she always gave in to, however grudgingly. Even to the point of (brief) death.

Despite all this, she smirked. The de-fleshed skeleton of the Master lay where the library’s table half-was and half-wasn't, sharpened wood piercing where his heart had been. When you crashed through skylights, you met certain consequences.

But now, time to party—the PTSD could kick in later. She turned to leave as Cordelia pushed through the doors from the opposite side. They sort of bumped into each other.

* * *

 

Cordelia, whose life revolved mostly around cheerleading stress, had just suffered through the most horrific ordeal ever. She’d spent her night with total freaks (not the demons). And yet she was in an almost pleasant mood. It was bizarre and unsettling...she wanted to be pissed.

If that wasn't shocking enough, she couldn't believe what she was about to do.

"You lose something?" Buffy asked, also understandably stumped as to why Cordelia would set foot in here again. "Because if you did, it probably got sucked into Hell...and why’s your car in the hallway?"

"Um, apparently, there were _vampires_ in the parking lot," Cordelia told her, voice somehow still incredulous while laced with sarcasm. "What was I supposed to do? Go all 'Horror Movie' and run around like I have no brain?"

That practically begged for a comeback, she realized quickly. "Don't even—"

"What? You're right—it was a dumb question," conceded Buffy.

"Good," Cordelia sighed. "Look, I didn't want anyone else to see, because I have a reputation to think about, but I just...wanna say thank you. For what you did."

She had an expression near to admiration on her face. "I mean, dying so I could live to get a new car—’cause my insurance doesn't cover 'Acts of Satan'—that's like, really selfless."

"The world kinda needed saving too," smirked Buffy. "Besides, it's, what I do. Unfortunately."

Cordelia abruptly switched to annoyance. "I'm showing you gratitude. Show some back and accept it."

They both stood there not knowing what to say, Cordelia sort of fidgeting, arguing with herself until her “inner-bitch” surrendered, and she hugged Buffy.

"If anybody finds out this happened—"

"You'll tell the whole school I did Mr. Vermir in the passenger seat of a _Beetle_ just to pass Geometry,” Buffy deduced. “And ‘cause I have absolutely no self-respect, it was in his driveway with the door open...when his wife was home. Close?"

Cordelia released her, pulling back, clearly blown away. "Maybe you actually were popular in some alternate universe."

* * *

  

It was hard to believe Buffy had been in that universe only six months ago. Things seemed simpler there, but other than all the evil that flocked to this misleading town, it wasn't so bad.

Buffy had good, quirky friends, not just followers. She couldn't be that other person anymore, even if she wanted to. Cordelia was welcome to that life.

"Can use it if you want...as long as my name, Xander's name, and Willow's, isn't anywhere near," she detailed.

They exited the library together, and started down the hall.

"I'm sorry about Kevin," Buffy apologized gently.

"How did you...?"

Kevin was a guy Cordelia had been seriously dating. Only—as she and Willow discovered—he’d been slaughtered on school grounds by vampires.

"I notice stuff. You guys were really cute together."

"Well...thanks." Cordelia obviously wasn’t used to someone taking an interest in her life unless she ordered them to. "And we were, weren't we?"

The girls smiled somewhat sadly at one another, walking out the exit doors at the end of the hall.

"So what're you doing this summer?" Buffy asked.

"My parents promised we're going to St. Croix...I need to get the hell out of here," exhaled Cordelia. “And onto real beaches.”

"Me too—s'why I'm going to L.A. for some quality 'Father-Daughter' time." Buffy looked forward to dodging horror for a little while.

"While you're there," Cordelia suggested, eyeing the mess that was Buffy’s hair, "you should go to a stylist. Do something different. Like dye it."

"You think?" Buffy questioned, touching her hair and giving it thought. Her next question just seemed to slip out. "Do you like it? Being popular?"

Mask dropping again just a moment, Cordelia answered, "Sometimes. Do you like being a superhuman freak?"

"Sometimes."

And sometimes, both had their downsides. Buffy’s first night in Los Angeles would be when the nightmares started, scarring a little piece of her forever. Then after taking Cordelia’s advice, she’d return for the new school year, a blonde.

Cordelia would spend the summer bored to tears in Tuscany, not St. Croix. But the boredom wouldn’t just be because her parents forced art and architecture on her. There’d be a far less shallow reason for once.


	2. One

Leaving the Bronze, Buffy felt satisfied in one area at least. She’d driven Angel crazy by dancing with Xander. Vampires weren't exactly her favorite demons right now.

Dying could seriously screw you up, especially when it happened at the hands of a vampire like the Master. She couldn't get his face out of her head.

Buffy hadn’t seen a light at the end of a tunnel, or felt comforted. It was dark, and cold. She wasn’t letting anything get close enough to send her back. Even Angel.

She got spun whenever he was around. When he kissed her, when he was near her...it was too much. But she’d had control in there. Over herself, over Xander, over _him_.

Buffy cared for the brooding vampire, maybe loved him in a way. Angel seemed to always show when she needed him; those feelings were bound to come up. Except loving him was dangerous, and she didn't want love to be like that.

She couldn’t think about this anymore. She was too confused, pissed off, and stimulated. She’d regret that dance from a “friend” standpoint later, but there was a whole different type of regret at the moment.

"Buffy," a voice called from behind, causing her to stop. "You're really campaigning for 'Bitch of the Year,' aren't you?"

Turning to Cordelia, she had a smartass reply ready. "As defending champion, you nervous?"

"I can hold my own. You know, we've never really been close, which is nice, ‘cause I don't really like you that much, but...you have on occasion saved the world and stuff, so I'm gonna do you a favor," offered Cordelia, eyes locked to Buffy’s.

Though impossibly _more_ pissed off now, Buffy had to admit—Cordelia even looked good in dark alleys. "And this great favor is...?"

"I'm gonna give you some advice—get over it."

Sure, that made sense.

"Excuse me?" Buffy asked with disbelief.

"Whatever's causing the Joan Collins 'tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it," Cordelia elaborated. "’Cause pretty soon you're not even gonna have the loser friends you've got now."

Buffy stepped up to her, anger fully on display. "I think it's about time you start minding your own business."

Cordelia smiled. "It's long past."

What was this? A clique cease-fire or something? The Queen of All Things Popular was expecting the Leader of the Freak Patrol to accept the white flag?

Buffy felt like telling Cordelia to take her advice and...but she did have nice lips. Damn stimulated hormones. Lips that were nice and...

...Kissable.

She stared at her, like with Xander minutes ago. Intense. Predatory. Sexily.

She was finding out how easy it was. How it made her prey uncomfortable. She only wanted Cordelia silent, but this was great.

After all Cordelia had done to them, where did she get the nerve? Especially now of all times? Talk about insensitive. She'd just have to put her in her place. Why that involved running a hand along her cheek, Buffy had no idea.

"Are you...feeling okay?" Cordelia stammered.

"Never better."

Buffy Summers kissed Cordelia Chase, and went all out. Long and hard, possibly longer than intended, but then she broke it off. The sudden loss caused her prey to let out a small, inaudible-to-the-majority-of-people-who-didn't-have-slayer-hearing, whimper.

"Leave me alone," Buffy ordered before walking off in the other direction.

Cordelia brought her hand to her lips, felt the smudged lipstick, and tried to get her bearings. "What the hell was that?"

"Consider it...returning the favor. A 'thank you' for your advice."

Buffy flipped up the hood of her jacket, and kept going.

_'Okay, that wasn't so bad. And it...made things worse.'_

Before a frazzled Cordelia could yell any kind of response, a hand clamped over her mouth, and two vampires were dragging her across the alley.

* * *

 

Perfect. The Anointed One and his cronies had unearthed the Master's bones to bring him back to unlife. As if Buffy wasn't freaking out enough already. He would come back, and he’d make sure the next time he killed her, it was for good.

She needed to stop them, needed to hit something. And sitting in the library while everyone was calmly researching made her want to scream. Fear had taken over, and she wasn’t even aware how close she was to losing her only friends.

Cordelia would be right. She hadn't seen her since the not fading memory. But like everything else lately, Buffy didn't know what to think, and preferred to not.

Wait—hadn't seen her since last night? Hadn't Cordelia been in school?

Xander was starting to say something. "Well, is there anything on when the ceremony might take—?"

A rock came crashing through the window, which Buffy caught easily from her spot on the table, once he dodged.

"Whoa!"

Buffy saw a piece of paper around the rock, held in place by a nice-looking bracelet.

"This is Cordelia's." She removed the jewelry and read, "'Come to the Bronze before it opens, or we make her a meal.'"

_'Damn it! They must've grabbed her right after I...I'm gonna get her back.'_

 

( _Why?_ her rational side wondered.

 _‘Cause we're friends. And it's my job,_ her...less than truthful side answered.

 _You're friends? When did this happen? I think you—_ )

 

"They're gonna cook her dinner?" Xander asked in a worried tone, halting her internal debate. Everyone stared at him. "I'll pretend I didn't say that."

"What do we do?" asked Willow more sensibly.

Buffy exhaled and hopped off the table. "I go to the Bronze and save the day."

She started for the doors.

"I don't like this," Xander told her.

"Nor I," agreed Giles for once.

She turned around. "Yeah? Well, you guys aren't going."

 

( _You're not handling this right_.

 _It's for their own good_. _My screw up, my problem. I'm not putting them in danger._ )

 

"What do you mean?" Willow interrupted this time.

"I can't do it anymore. I can't look after the three of you guys while I'm fighting."

 

( _Yeah, that's a_ great _excuse._ )

 

Willow tried to hide her hurt. "Well, what about the rest of the note?"

"The rest of the note?"

"The part that says, 'P.S. This is a trap'?"

 

( _Smart._

 _Shut up!_ )

 

"You'll be playing straight into their hands," Giles added, removing his glasses.

"I can handle this," Buffy insisted.

"Stop saying that! God, what's wrong with you?" Willow nearly yelled.

"Cordelia may be dead," Xander pointed out.

"She's _not_ dead. Don't say that; she'll be fine." Buffy stared hard at each of them. "This is my fight."

Grabbing her coat off the counter, she hurried out of the library.

* * *

  

"It's entirely pointy. I was a moron. I put my best friends in mortal danger on the second day of school," Buffy told Giles the next morning as they walked through the quad.

She had saved the day, rescuing everyone after getting them kidnapped. Also, she smashed the Master's bones with a sledgehammer, and wept a summer's worth of pent up emotion into Angel's chest. Everyone watched. This thing with him wasn't going away.

"What are you gonna do? Crawl inside a cave for the rest of your life?" Giles asked.

"Would it have cable?" Her voice was small.

He smiled at her. "Buffy, you acted wrongly, I admit that. But believe me, that was hardly the-the worst mistake you'll ever make." Beat. "Uh, that wasn't quite as comforting as it was meant to be."

"Well, points for effort." She gave him a tiny smile as the bell rang. "See ya."

Then she saw Cordelia walking with Miss Calendar.

This thing with her wasn't going away, either. After closure came guilt, and the realization of what she'd done. Cordelia was high on her guilt list.

Buffy ran up to them. "Hi, Miss Calendar. Um, I need to talk to Cordelia."

She grabbed said person by the arm and dragged her to a quiet corner of the quad. Wasn't the most polite method, but it was the only way she'd ever get her attention.

"Hey! Enough with the manhandling." Cordelia wrenched her arm free. "I'm gonna be late for class."

"Since when do you care about being timely?" Buffy asked, skeptical.

"Since about ten seconds ago," retorted Cordelia, trying to leave.

"Wait. Please." Buffy didn’t know why Cordelia stopped, but she wasn’t going to waste time. "I just wanted to say that, I'm...sorry. For _everything_."

"Keep your voice down!" Cordelia snapped. "I'm trying to repress, so could you never mention it? Ever?"

But Buffy wanted the air clear. "I don't normally...I'm not usually like that. I wasn't thinking straight and I—"

"Was horny?" Cordelia helped, and Buffy flushed. "It's weird, but I get it. If I was drowned by a way-too-old, deformed vampire in serious need of reconstructive surgery—who almost came back to try it _again_ —I'd probably wanna lose my mind, too. But I’d have a little more self-respect.” Beat. “Xander? Really?"

Buffy’s scowl didn't carry over to her eyes. "Gee, is it ever not about you?"

"Sometimes," said Cordelia, both girls smiling at the shared memory.

Buffy began to open her mouth, but someone wasn’t finished. "Don't. You're forgiven. Let's just show some maturity...and move past this. As long as we have a mutual understanding—"

"You didn't like it?" Buffy's self-confidence was dropping. She had no idea why. 

* * *

 

 

Lie or be honest? Cordelia was usually good at lying, but Buffy could read people, was trained to. At least, that was her assumption, so...

"No, I did. That's why I'm trying to forget it, okay?" she revealed. "So you're done being 'Miss Sexual Predator,' and you're sorry. Got it. Now let me leave already."

Though determined to head inside, she sighed at Buffy’s sudden, pleased smile and had to ask, "What?"

"Thanks."

Cordelia didn't want to smile back but she was, her own internal debate in progress:

 

( _That kiss wasn't the only thing you liked._

 _Shut up._ )

 

It was going to be a long year.


	3. Two

Cordelia moved slowly through the lunch-line, inspecting every offered “food” before deciding whether to actually eat it. Not because of her figure, but because she was afraid Sunnydale High broke FDA regulations, majorly and daily. Yuck.

Pathetically, the only thing that looked remotely appetizing was two-day-old pizza.

She made her selection, paid the buck sixty, and scanned the cafeteria. There they were—Xander, Willow, and...Buffy. The slayer practically haunted her dreams anymore.

One damn kiss. She couldn't drop it. Drop her. Dropping people like bad habits was supposed to be her specialty. Only those people were guys, not...

...Buffy. But why did that matter?

Because what they’d done made a permanent home in her brain. No one had ever managed that. It didn't make any sense—Cordelia hated her.

Then again, Buffy did continually save her life. Just the other week, she’d been rescued from a reanimated Daryl Epps. Who told Buffy she wanted to be?

Well, all right, the screaming kind of told her. But that was beside the point.

She didn't even know Buffy, not really.

From the outside, Buffy seemed comfortable with her place in high school. Cordelia wished she could say the same. She recognized how empty “popularity” was, how lonely, but when you had it, you could hide in it. Safe and protected. So she played shallow by choice. Being outcast was too scary a thought.

But hanging around the library on rare occasions, she felt part of something. Everyone thought it was just charitable pity time, and she allowed them to. Illusion was easier than the confusing reality. 

* * *

 

 

Purely for argument's sake, if she were willing to sacrifice social standing and risk everything (which she wasn't), Buffy was all over Angel. The same Angel who didn't spare her so much as a glance. That was beyond wrong.

However, Cordelia was having his usual problem. Buffy was all she could think about. Ugh. At least she wasn't saying this aloud and boosting her ego.

And Buffy was sitting there, completely unbothered. Even after she went out of her way to try and use Angel to make her jealous during that “Daryl” thing. Ugh.

Moving in Buffy’s direction, Cordelia was at the gang’s table before she’d even finished asking herself why she cared.

"Been forced into hard labor with Sheila the Schitzo, huh? Snyder must like, fantasize about you two: 'I have no sex appeal because my huge head is too big for my dwarf body, so I'll be a humongous perv.'" Cordelia parked herself down in the free seat.

"I wish I could I un-hear things." Buffy made a face. "But I think Sheila's more psycho than schitzo. Doesn't mean I won’t make lunch last as long as possible, though."

"So...?"

Buffy slowly nodded her head. "Yeah...so...how come you aren't with your groupies?"

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. "They cut last period ‘cause of some sale at the mall, I think. Wasn't exactly listening."

"You didn't go?"

"Oh please." Cordelia sounded disgusted. "I order direct, or I go out of town to a place that doesn’t know what a bargain rack is." Beat. "You got fries? They were out when I went up."

"Want ‘em?"

"Can I?"

Buffy gestured to the processed potatoes.

It was at about this point, as Cordelia started snagging, that Willow and Xander reminded the two girls they were still there by clearing their throats.

"Buf, the enemy's at the table. The _Enemy_ ," said Xander, concerned about his friend's...lack of concern.

"It's called, ‘keeping your friends close and your enemies closer,’" Cordelia addressed him. "Look it up. Her strategy’s totally valid."

"Actually, it's from _The Godfather_ movies," Willow pointed out. "I-I guess you could still look it up, sorta. By fast-forwarding an-and rewinding and all."

"Cordelia can quote the greatest films of our time? No...no, this isn't right at all." He was rather unnerved.

"Uh, the guys are gonna make stakes tomorrow before the hell that is Parent-Teacher Night ‘cause, thanks to some Saint Vegetable guy, there's this big, vampire attack happening Saturday, and...d’you maybe wanna help?" Buffy was almost shy.

"Yeah,” replied Cordelia, shrugging. “If I don’t remember to suddenly be busy."

"You...but...you do?" Willow asked in disbelief.

Snatching another of Buffy's fries, Cordelia knew she had her answer.

* * *

 

 

"So what did you and Principal Snyder talk about, anyway?" Buffy asked her mother as they walked outside the school.

What a night. What a way to narrowly avoid Joyce seeing what she did for a living.

Spike, the new vampire in town, chose not to wait until Saturday, and attacked during the parent-teacher conferences. _After_ Snyder went into share-mode with her mother.

Of course.

The big-headed, troll-ish principal put his own spin on her behavior, and now she prepared for the incoming tirade.

"Principal Snyder said you were a troublemaker," answered Joyce, watching her hang her head. "And I could care less."

Buffy looked up.

"I have a daughter who can take care of herself. Who's brave and resourceful and thinks of others in a crisis. No matter who you hang out with or what dumb teenage stuff you think you need to do, I'm gonna sleep better knowing all that."

Buffy wore a suspicious expression. "But how long ‘til this wears off and you start ragging on me again?"

"Oh, at least a week and a half."

"Very cool."

She wanted to question how she’d managed to keep her freedom, but decided not to look a gift vampire in the mouth. Something told her she was going to come to despise Spike with a passion, but maybe just tonight, he deserved a “Thank You” card instead of an ass kicking. God, her mom had saved her from him. So embarrassing.

All in all, it turned out well. Giles and Miss Calendar got the majority of the people to safety. Xander and Angel had...well, possibly “bonded” was a wrong word. But—

—how come it felt like something was missing?

She halted, going over the events in her head and frowning. "Crap."

"Buffy?" Joyce asked.

"Be right back, Mom. I...I forgot something inside."

Like Cordelia and Willow. The three of them had run out of the lounge together, gotten separated, and Buffy hadn't seen them come out. Which meant they had to still be in the building. Alone and possibly dead. Not necessarily because of vampires.

This was bad, very bad.

* * *

 

 

She went back into the school, careful to stay out of sight of the leaving cops. They probably wanted to do their protocol stuff when it was a little lighter; she didn't blame them. Entering the lounge, she saw a chalk outline on the floor.

Silently apologizing to whoever the victim had been, she resumed her search, head swarming with thoughts about a girl, oddly enough.

This was the bizarre thing she’d discovered—Cordelia was an actual, human person. With a lot more happening below the surface than she showed. As evidenced by their cafeteria discussion, Cordelia could be somewhat caring and polite.

Plus, “it” was obviously nagging them both. Good. Now she simply had to wait for “it” to make sense.

Until _that_ night, Buffy hated her because everyone else did. And then “it” happened. Maybe Buffy was allowing herself to see other things as a result.

Cordelia had a strength Buffy didn't think the girl was even aware of. Sort of made her want to know the real person, to see what else was there. But then what?

Eventually “it” would have to be dealt with. When the time came, would they act on...whatever might’ve developed? Buffy had definite ideas, but they weren’t very realistic. This was high school—there were boundaries and rules.

If rules weren’t obeyed (they would be), Buffy expected a struggle. Degrees of bad. Friends, family, everyone would have something to say. There was also Angel.

He did have a talent for making her swoon, but swooning never lasted. She usually fell flat on her face afterward. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful, him watching her back and all that, but...

She knew he loved her; that was the hardest part. There was a time when she could've just told him no, broken his heart with ease, but that time was long gone.

Cordelia didn't make her swoon, no. Cordelia...well, Buffy wasn't exactly sure. And maybe not knowing was a good thing.

Bottom line? She had two, potential (and unlikely) romantic interests, and she had to choose one, or none. Soon. 

* * *

 

 

Deep reflection aside, Cordelia eating her fries was adorable. The “C”-word and “adorable” in the same sentence. Who knew?

Buffy was about to call out when she heard voices down the hall. The closer she got, the clearer they sounded. They were coming from inside the janitor's closet.

"And if you get me out of this, I swear I'll never be mean to anyone ever again. Unless they _really_ deserve it. Or if it's that time of the month, in which case I don't think you or anyone else can hold me responsible—" Cordelia was saying.

"Ask for some aspirin," interrupted Willow tiredly.

"And can you please send some asp..." There was a pause before, "Hey!"

Buffy snickered and opened the door, causing both girls to scream.

"Geez, Buffy! Knock much?" Cordelia was close to hyperventilating.

"Is it safe?" Willow asked.

"As houses. Vamps cleared out, but Spike's still...not dusty," Buffy told them, trying hard not to get too angry over that.

"So you _aren’t_ bleeding internally from somewhere?" Cordelia wondered, eying her.

Buffy grinned slightly. "Why, were you worried about me?"

"As if. It's just now I won't feel bad about screaming at you for not coming to get us sooner! Do you have any idea what I went through?"

Willow stifled a groan. "I have to get out of here; I can't take it anymore. I try, I really do, but every single time it's..."

She continued babbling to herself as she quickly made her way back to the world, the other two watching her go.

* * *

 

Then, as if nothing had happened—

"Nice dress."

"Thanks."

Buffy had been meaning to tell Cordelia all night, but as they began leaving, she had to ask, "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Try to constantly annoy Xander and Willow."

"I never hafta try," said Cordelia, smiling too much. "If they didn't make it so easy..."

"As the Ruler of Loserdom, guess that's my fault," deduced Buffy with an eye roll.

“Don’t take credit for them...they always have. And you aren’t the Ruler—you're the Rejected Stepsister of the Princess of Loserdom. Which is, believe it or not, that girl that's on Ritalin," Cordelia made air-quotes, "in the back of History class."

Buffy chuckled and mock-bowed. "Wow. Sorry I was so wrong, Your Queen-ness." She was smacked. "What? I'm showing respect."

"Well stop—‘cause I don't deserve it," Cordelia quietly argued. At the doors, their conversation de-lulled and she asked, "We're not...um, enemies, you know that, right?"

Buffy’s eyebrows rose. "This is coming from...?"

"Yesterday. The 'keeping enemies closer' thing. I just wanted them to shut up about me sitting there," came an annoyed Cordelia’s explanation. "Didn't work."

Buffy was now left with a necessary question. "Why'd you sit with us at all?"

Cordelia stretched her arms behind her back with a sigh. "Honestly? I don't have the energy right now. And even if I did..."

"It’s okay, me either," Buffy spoke reassuringly. "If it's any consolation though, think we're paddling the same boat here." They shared a smile. "Need a ride? My mom could..."

"Got my car."

Buffy didn't want to forget to mention, "I'm glad you're not dead, by the way."

"Me too," agreed Cordelia, which triggered a look of incredulity. "And that you're still obviously living."

"How sweet," said Buffy sarcastically.

"You know me. See ya tomorrow, Buffy."

"Night, Cordy."

Buffy knew bits and pieces, but not the big picture that was Cordelia Chase. She was intrigued by it constantly anymore. They split up, going off in different directions.

After a few seconds, she shouted over her shoulder, "Call me!"

Had to start somewhere.


	4. Three

Slowly bringing her foot over her bedroom’s windowsill, Buffy quietly entered her house after an extended patrol. Grabbing her bag from where she'd hooked it on the tree branch, she breathed a relieved sigh. When the vampires were track team stars in life, her job became substantially harder.

Closing the window, she glanced at her clock. Just after one. Meant she'd have to shower before school unless she wanted her mother up and asking endless questions. It was a shame; she smelled extra stinky tonight.

She took off her jacket and threw it on her chair as the phone began ringing.

Correction—it was half a ring. Buffy picked up the phone so fast she'd have given light-speed a run for its money. The caller was of course Cordelia.

"Figures,” said her new friend, apparently skipping “hello.”

They’d conversed almost nightly for the past two weeks, so hearing her voice wasn't exactly a surprise, but she never called this late.

Staring at her door in fear, if it were possible, Buffy would've reached into the receiver and strangled. Her mother was a dangerous woman, and not very forgiving about curfew breakage. Especially if awoken in the middle of the night.

"Are you trying to get me grounded ‘til I die aga...?" She yawned, and her anger dissipated. "What figures?" She kept her voice low while taking off shoes.

"That the exchange student you end up with is a five-hundred-year-old mummy," Cordelia continued. "It's like Fate has it in for you twenty-four-seven."

"For a supposedly professional, you suck at cheering me up," grumbled Buffy. "Besides, that was what? A week ago?"

"I knew you’d probably go right home after your graveyard shift—because you have no life—so I’m sharing a thought I had. Excuse me for wanting to talk to you.” Despite her exasperated tone, no way Cordelia wasn’t grinning on the other end.

Buffy went to her dresser, swiftly returning the verbal serve. "Don't make me bring up your one hundred percent Swedish guy." She could picture the scowl.

"All right, geez."

* * *

  

"You home too? You who also has no life?"

"Only because I didn’t feel like getting dragged to this week’s, 'Let’s Show Off How Rich We Are' party by my parents," Cordelia defended.

Looking through her clothes, Buffy cringed at just how dated they were becoming. "Why not?"

"And waste my best, fake smiles on guys so over-the-hill they’re going through a third mid-life crisis? With bronze trophy wives? No thanks. I'm not _that_ stuck up," Cordelia defended herself again.

"I didn't mean..." Buffy looked at the tank top she had pulled out. "I know you aren't."

"Anyway, it's pretty much guaranteed that my father's gonna get loaded, _and_ my mother doesn't drive, so I'm waiting for her to call and tell me to come get them." Cordelia exhaled into the phone. "God, I can already see the bags."

"What does your father do? I always wondered.”

"Investing. My grandfather found oil somewhere, and we inherited everything when he and Nana died. One day I swear we're gonna pick the wrong stock or whatever. What about yours?"

"I think...something with numbers." Buffy heard the laugh as she was getting changed. "Yeah, no idea. Which is sad, because I spent an entire summer with him. We're not as close as we used to be.”

"It had to be tough. The divorce, I mean."

"Worse. Most kids only _think_ they had something to do with their parents splitting up; I _know_ I helped it happen," said Buffy, bringing her mood down another notch.

"I'm sure you didn't," Cordelia tried to be comforting. She was met with silence. "I've never been close to mine. They gave me a credit card when I was eight, bought me whatever I wanted, but, money...love...what’s the diff?"

"I've been there. My mom didn't start being a Mom until we moved here. She hasta read books on how."

This was fun.

"Am I the only one who needs a Zanex?" 

* * *

 

 

Buffy rubbed her face. "Uh, definitely no. Have a new topic. Hurry."

"Great, okay...what're you doing?"

"Like, right now doing? Getting bed comfy." No response. "Cordy?"

"So the whole time we've...?"

"I've been changing." Again, no response, and Buffy had to grin. "You alive over there?" Beat. "Seriously, are you?"

"What? Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Cordelia spoke as though she’d just been very out of it. "I...I wanted to ask for a favor. See, I met this guy at the Pump yesterday. He's a senior at Crestwood, and he, um...invited me to a party tomorrow night. At his fraternity."

"A frat guy?" Buffy said too loud, finishing in a squeak.

_'Don't be jealous...don't be jealous...'_

"Not that that's a problem or anything,” she recovered, “just...what's this have to do with me?"

"I'm allowed to bring, and I’m quoting, 'A female guest,'" elaborated Cordelia. "I want you to come with me ‘cause I've never...and you know, what if...?"

"Things get outta hand?"

"Could you?"

Joyce came in the room.

"Buffy?" Her mother saw her lying in bed, phone in hand. "It's late. Who're you talking to?"

"Um, Cordelia." Buffy figured honesty was the way to go. "I, uh, couldn't sleep, and we have a project to do for, uh, a class that we're in, so I thought we should...discuss it?"

The woman was momentarily speechless. "Well...say good night in a few minutes. You have school in the morning."

"Sure thing, Mom."

With that, Joyce left, leaving her daughter to decide whether to laugh or groan.

Cordelia laughed for her. "Wow, she must’ve been half-asleep, because that was easily the lamest cover story told by anyone ever." As soon as Buffy narrowed her eyes, Cordelia said, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Buffy quickly smiled. "I should tell you to go to hell, but yes, I'll come with...you're too attractive to die."

"Thank you! I've been saying that for a year now—at least someone was paying attention."

Both girls stayed on the phone for another thirty minutes, their silences just as comfortable as their pointless chatter about nothing.

* * *

 

"Hey, Reptile Boy!" Buffy yelled at Machida, a giant half-man, half-snake.

Eyes glued to the creature, she had to recap. She and Cordelia had come to the Zeta Kappa house, where Cordelia found the guy she'd met, Richard. It started out okay, until Buffy had to watch them dance. She didn't particularly enjoy the view all that much. She hated it; she’d wanted to be blind.

This led her to drink a little, which hadn't been the brightest idea. Fortunately...no, that was unfortunately now, another frat brother had come up to her, introducing himself as Tom Warner. Then sweet-talk and dancing and no more watching Cordelia.

After that point, things became blurry.

Her drink had been drugged. Cordelia got taken the same way. Together, they were brought down to the basement—a big, cave-like area for ritual sacrifices to Machida. Human girl sacrifices.

They were chained up next to another girl, viewing helplessly as the frat boys/psycho cultists called Machida to dinner. And surprise, Tom was the evil leader.

Buffy knew some minor intoxication was the most likely cause for her slayer senses failing, but she preferred to blame his imaginary, hypnotist powers. Couldn't she ever go out and have a normal night of underage drinking?

"No woman speaks to him!" Tom warned, brandishing a sword and wearing standard cult robe.

"You don't want her. Look at her—she's all skin and bones," Buffy tried to dissuade the demon while struggling to get free. "Half an hour later you'll be hungry."

"If I didn't need you to get me the hell out of here, I'd be so—" Cordelia began, knowing she was first course.

"I didn't give you permission to talk!" Tom prepared to backhand her.

"Touch her and you'll regret it," Buffy threatened.

"Speak again and I cut your throat," he threatened back and walked away. 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia smiled, doing her best to whisper. "Since we're having 'special bondage time,' I've been thinking—it's not like I had much choice."

Buffy coughed at the unique wording. Cordelia didn’t notice.

"And hey! Because I'm gonna die, _now_ it all makes sense?" She was pissed. "I hate the universe. I have this like, major epiphany and..."

“Shut up” was being mouthed to her, as this really wasn't the time, but again, she didn’t notice. She just sighed and kept going.

"Listen, I’ve got an idea about how to finally handle this...thing. You know, this _thing_. I can do denial if I have to, but if we live throu—"

"His hunger is at its greatest!" Tom announced, turning around.

Two brothers unchained and held Cordelia, but then everyone heard noise above.

"Something's going on upstairs. Go. Go!"

Several men ran up as Buffy continued to work on breaking her chains.

"Feed, Dark Lord!"

Machida rose above Cordelia and she screamed, desperately trying to escape. Buffy tugged hard at her bonds one final time, and they snapped loose from the ceiling. Stepping over to Machida, who’d lowered to grab his meal, slayer punched demon. He reeled, holding the side of his face.

Next, Buffy started fighting a sword-swinging Tom.

"You bitch! I'll serve you to him in pieces," he angrily promised, lunging forward.

She caught the blade between a gap in her chains, looped them around his neck, and choked. "Tom, you talk too much." She shoved him into a table.

* * *

 

Machida was dragging Cordelia back to his hole as the gang, led by Giles and Angel, descended the stairs. The vampire had discovered a bracelet with blood on it near the south wall of the cemetery; a wall shared with the college. When he went looking for Buffy, Willow told him and an unhappy Giles where she was.

Xander was already at the party, having gone to protect his friend. He had an...interesting time. He met up with Angel, Giles and Willow when they arrived, and here they all were, watching Buffy pick up Tom's sword and jump onto the edge of the well Machida had exited from.

"Let her go, wormy!"

Machida ignored her, so she lifted and drove the weapon into him. He dropped his prize and reared back, screeching in pain before collapsing dead to the ground.

* * *

 

Willow came off the steps to help their fellow ex-prisoner. Buffy helped Cordelia.

"I was right—Fate has it in for you," said Cordelia, brushing herself off. "But that's okay...at least your life's not dull."

"Glad you approve," Buffy smirked.

"Just be glad a small part of me likes you," Cordelia informed her, "or I'd never take you anywhere again."

"You _wanted_ me to come!"

Cordelia just sighed, pretending not to hear. "People'll really do anything to get rich, won't they?"

"It's creepy."

"It's sick."

"But luckily, you're one of the privileged. You don't need to feed a man-worm-demon-thing to stay off welfare." Buffy's attempt at humor was frowned upon slightly, and she felt like an idiot. "Sorry, Cordy. I wasn't...I was just kidding."

"Great party, huh, ladies?" Xander commented sarcastically, coming over after looking down at the gross and grimacing.

Buffy studied his face. "Is that—?"

"—lipstick?" Cordelia finished, shaking off her insecurity.

His laugh was nervous. "Heh. I think we know who drank outta the ‘special’ punchbowl.” He had no idea how right he was. “Sure, _possibly_ dabbling in the world of makeup-wearing hijinks might have a default coolness if—”

"—if the clown colleges you’re applying to next year have a ‘Bozo’ quota?” Cordelia supplied, then spoke to Buffy. “No, look, you can totally tell he’s—“

"The manliest fella ever!" he insisted. "Right, Giles?"

The watcher came up to them, shooting Xander a look. "Are you all right?"

"Completely unscathed. But could you not do the 'Irresponsibility' speech? Don’t worry— _so_ learned our lesson. College can wait," Buffy told him.

"Boy, can it ever," agreed Cordelia.

Giles’ countenance softened, and he smiled in quiet relief. “I suppose there’s no rush. Tomorrow then.”

Buffy began to frown before catching sight of the other girl, being supported by Willow. "I'm sure she's got people wondering where she is."

Giles promised, "I'll see that she gets home."

"And I'll make sure the police get him." Angel grabbed Tom by the robe collar.

Cordelia tried not to see Buffy’s grateful smile, yelling, "They better put him away...for fifteen-thousand years!" Then, "That reminds me. My idea."

"If? _If_?" Buffy repeated her friend’s crucial, earlier word. "There was doubt?" She huffed. "And what was with, 'special bondage time'?"

Cordelia gaped, gripped Buffy’s arm a might possessively, and began dragging her upstairs. "Gutter much?"

Neither saw Willow staring after them, confuzzled. 

* * *

  

Halloween was a week or so later. Costumes, candy, and principal-enforced trick-or-treating. The gang was among the many students “asked” to chaperone many little kids around town for the night. Buffy was getting ready in her room, putting on earrings.

They’d complete the 17th century gown and black wig ensemble she’d purchased from _Ethan’s_ , a new costume shop. Her friends had gotten costumes there, too.

Willow picked a ghost. Xander, a toy gun (he had military fatigues at home for some reason). Cordelia’s costume—a cat outfit—was from PartyTown, however.

Buffy hadn't seen yet, but she’d heard it described in detail over the phone. If she didn't know better, she would've thought Cordelia was flirting. But she didn't say anything.

She was just going along with the Idea, and in the meantime, avoiding picturing Cordelia in something skin-tight. Because they were friends. For now.

Willow was currently changing in the bathroom. After she’d gotten the ghost, Buffy had a flash of inspiration. It necessitated an altogether different kind of shopping trip.

Buffy made Willow buy clothes that revealed just how appealing her figure could be. Willow was not ugly; it was time she knew. She'd have people lining up if she just gained a little self-confidence.

That was Buffy’s theory anyway, and one she hoped to prove.

"Where're you meeting Angel?" Willow asked from the bathroom.

"I'm not, actually. I turned him down," said Buffy slowly.

"Why?"

"Uh...all we had planned was eating the candy that's downstairs, and I heard vampires don't like chocolate?" Buffy waited. "Not buying it, are you?"

"Nope."

Buffy resigned to fate; this was bound to happen. Telling somebody was the next step, and since she and Cordelia were cautiously moving out of “Denial Land,” who better to tell than her best friend?

"It's...Cordelia," she hesitantly spoke.

Willow suddenly rushed into the room, shaking her finger. "I knew it! I knew it! Well, not 'knew it' in the sense of having the slightest idea, but I knew there was something I didn't know."

Buffy looked her over and smiled. "Wow—you're a dish. I mean, really."

Willow was wearing boots, a short, black leather skirt and a burgundy, long-sleeved, V-necked, midriff-baring top. Quickly, she grabbed her ghost sheet off the bed and held it in front of her. She’d forgotten for a second there.

"Don't change the subject, Buffy, it won't work." 

* * *

 

 

"See? More confident already." Buffy stared at “resolve face.” "You're right. And I'm gonna tell you, but you have to promise not to freak." She received a nod. "I...I like her."

"Cordelia? Like? No, those words hate each other."

"Maybe I oughta start at the beginning."

"Maybe." Willow still came off as unsure.

A brief synopsis of the past two months left her slack-jawed.

Buffy weakly smiled. "You can start making word sounds anytime now...”

"Am-am I sitting? ‘Cause, um, I think I should." Willow chose the bed. "Cordelia. _Cordelia_? That's like, against all rational laws of the world. It-it’s...’against’-cubed."

"I know, believe me. But...I dunno." Buffy was struggling to explain. "She's...there's more to her than she shows."

"To Cordelia?" Willow nearly choked.

"Will..."

Apparently sixteen years of loathing was difficult to break through.

"We talk almost every night. For hours, sometimes. About personal stuff. I was just like her once—nastier even, but somewhere, I did have layers,” she continued, doing somewhat better. “Why can't she?"

"Because she's Cordelia,” argued Willow, stubborn. “She's mean, she's rude, and-and she's evil. Right hand of the Devil...maybe both hands."

"She's just...kinda defensive. And afraid." Buffy sighed. She needed her friend to be okay with this. "Hasn't she been nicer lately?"

"A-a little. I guess. To me,” Willow conceded. “But she still makes fun of Xander! All the time!” She took a second to think. “But...not like she used to.

“I mean, when she does...well, they aren’t, uh, exactly her best tries. I can tell." She gasped. "How much do you like her? How much does she like you?"

"Working on it," Buffy began to relax. "And Xander's told me about the club. He even discounted the membership fee. I get that she's not your favorite person, I do."

Willow’s eyes had widened. "Does that mean that you're...? And that she could be...? Cordelia? I'm not saying I boo people who, yunno...because I so don’t...that's wrong and tiny-minded and if you are...that's great. 'Woo' great.

“Don't worry—I wouldn’t stop being your best friend just because. I still _totally_ would be. Plus, I've heard stuff, read stuff...I even watched a documentary one time. With a little bunny in the corner." Her babble came to a stop.

"Uh, Will? I don't think that was a documentary."

Willow reddened like her hair. "Why would my dad have...?"

* * *

 

Buffy frowned, realizing, "I shouldn't've said anything."

"No...I mean, yes, you should've. You shouldn't keep secrets. I'm glad you told me, honest. It's just...what if Cordelia's lying to you? Manipulating people is what she’s the best at. Usually. And humiliating people. Nobody beats her."

"That’s...all kinds of true,” Buffy acknowledged. “Except, I don't think she is this time. And, oh, we both still check out guys."

Willow bit her lip. "Ooh, so you're...?"

"Still me?” Buffy smiled, nodding. “Yep, still one-hundred percent ‘Buffy.’"

"Sorry," Willow smiled back awkwardly. "New."

"At the frat house, you wouldn't believe how jealous I got when I saw her dancing with somebody," Buffy’s tone was not at all joking.

"Daggers?"

"Hundreds. And blood pressure? Through the roof—wasn't healthy. She said it was the same for her...seeing me; knew she meant it.

“’Til we figure out how far this thing with us goes, feelings-wise, we're staying dateless,” Buffy revealed. “Came to her while we were waiting to be sacrificed. It was a big moment."

"That was her idea? That you guys shouldn't date anybody so you won't get all Green-Eyed Monster-y?" Willow couldn’t help the smirk.

"Think about it, Will." Buffy adjusted her wig. "Cordelia not having a guy attached at the hip? For her, that's pretty socially huge."

It was starting to sink in, the enormity dawning across Willow’s face.

"She needs zero doubts though, which is an easy duh." Buffy knew what a relationship meant. "If she decides she...wants to be with me," Saying that aloud was new, and her mouth took on a happy curve, "it means she basically stops being popular. On tons of levels. It’s...hard to let go of.

“I'm just as clueless right now, but dating Cordelia is sounding less and less like a worst nightmare. I actually like waking up for school these days. But until _I'm_ doubt-free, m’ not gonna lead Angel on."

The doorbell rang.

"Oh! That's Xander—are you ready?" Buffy was getting excited.

While Willow was automatically nervous. "Yeah...o-o-okay."

"Cool! I can't wait for the boys to go non-verbal when they see you!"

"Gimmie time, okay, Buffy?" requested Willow. "But I hope that you and...that it goes whatever way is the happy way."

Buffy hugged her. "Thanks, Will."

Willow gave a tiny smile. "I'll-I'll be down in a minute."

She would be. Covered head-to-toe in ghost sheet.


	5. Four

"We found this address, we checked it out with Xander, and it turned out—" Angel was telling Buffy as she sat at her dining room table.

"And Xander?" she interrupted, almost finding it funny. "Wow. Everybody's in. It's like a great big, exciting conspiracy."

He wasn't following. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the people I trust—who's Drusilla?" she asked, and in response, he lowered his eyes. "And don't lie to me. I'm tired of it."

"Some lies are necessary."

"For what?"

"Sometimes the truth is worse." He knew that by now. "You live long enough, you find that out."

"I can take it; I can take the truth," she challenged him.

"Do you love me?"

That blindsided Buffy. Angel had never been this direct in the whole time she'd known him. Yet she was starting to realize she hadn't ever, really.

"What?" Buffy questioned back.

"Do you?" he prodded.

As she contemplated her answer, Cordelia’s face surfaced in her mind. “Betrayal” wasn't the first thought with her. No, Cordelia had been brutally honest on a wide range of subjects, unlike some people. So there was still doubt. Lots of it.

"I don't know," she told him truthfully, which was more than he was managing.

Brief hurt passed over Angel's eyes. "Maybe it should stay that way."

There was fire in hers. "Maybe I'm the one who should decide!"

How did they get here? 

* * *

 

 

Everything had been fine. Halloween went, taking all the evil, Chaos sorcerers and costumed insanity with it. Only one sorcerer according to a strangely cryptic Giles, but still. Gave way to a relatively calm week and a half, and breaks were always good.

She’d gone shopping with Cordelia and begged a redhead to join. It took a few minutes of coaxing—and promises of “Friendly Cordy”—until Willow relented. No big leaps were made, but there was progress.

Cordelia had taken a while to get used to someone else knowing their secret, but she did, even buying Willow a shirt as a sort of peace offering. It was a really nice shirt.

A few nights after, Buffy had been out patrolling, relatively bored. Her boredom ended when she happened to catch Angel talking to a woman in the park. That woman was Drusilla, whom she now knew was a vampire, and Spike's girlfriend.

Once Giles armed her with all the facts, she asked herself why Angel would be hanging with the enemy. She couldn’t find an answer.

Strike One.

When she saw him the following night, he lied about where he’d been.

Strike Two.

Also thrown into the mix? An old friend from Hemry had transferred to Sunnydale—Billy Fordham. Was nice to see him. Memories of her previous life came flooding back to haunt her, but it was.

Cordelia immediately gave him the evil eye, and again, Buffy found it adorable. She quickly assured that their agreement remained in effect. Ford wasn't a threat in the romantic sense. Angel, however, was taking his jealousy to the extreme.

* * *

  

Buffy didn't know whether to call “Strike Three,” because he could be right about Ford, but it was the principle of the thing. 

"I did a lot of unconscionable things when I became a vampire." He turned away from her. "Drusilla was the worst. She was...an obsession of mine. She was pure and sweet and chaste..."

"And you made her a vampire." She might as well fill in the blank.

"First I made her insane." He turned back to look at her. "Killed everybody she loved, visited every mental torture on her I could devise."

Buffy looked down, but he didn’t stop.

"She eventually fled to a convent, and on the day she took her holy orders, I turned her into a demon."

She stared in his eyes, trying to see the monster that could do that. But he was different now. Wasn’t he?

People slaughtered, a girl slowly crumbling...all made possible by Angel. Or his demon. Neither option sat well.

She felt sick. That danger she'd been so scared of existed within him. Hearing his past straight from his mouth, in that instant, she knew she couldn't love him.

Strike Three. For romance, anyway.

"Well...I asked for the truth."

He was out, and he knew it. Didn't have to be said.

"Ford's part of some society that reveres vampires." He returned to why he'd come in the first place. "Practically worships them. I don't know what he wants from you, but you can't trust him."

She was sorry for hurting him, but at least they wouldn't have to tiptoe around the issue anymore. Could they be friends? Time would tell, she guessed.

Now the only thing in her and Cordelia’s way, was her and Cordelia.

Ford was a different kind of problem. She’d soon find out that he wanted to live forever. Except all he did was die, making her kill the monster wearing his face.

Why couldn't life ever be simple?

* * *

 

Cordelia was at home on her leather sofa, watching some movie on TV a few weeks later. She wasn't really focused on it, wasn't really focused on anything. Every time she came back from school lately, she'd look around, and it was all just meaningless.  

She had what most people in her parents’ income bracket would call, ”junk.” Expensive junk, but junk nonetheless. There were outfits and jewelry she hadn't touched in a year simply because the style had become passé. Because she’d gotten bored.

Anybody else would praise their luck to have what she did, to be in her overpriced shoes. And she couldn’t appreciate them. Everything felt false.

She cared what she wore, but didn't. Her bank account dictated how she was supposed to act, what she was supposed to own. However hollow, she latched onto the addictive life she knew. Even as it slowly slipped from her grasp.

She spent more time with Buffy in school, a public place. Had conversations in plain view; sometimes even with Willow. She was breaking the rules where everyone could see, but while actively doing it, she didn't notice—Buffy had that effect.

How many rungs had she fallen? It got worse every day. Her sway was lessening while Harmony’s increased.

When she, Buffy and Willow had gone shopping, she’d wisely chosen an upscale place in L.A. she didn't think anyone in her circle could afford. Most of the girls', “I'm wealthy, accept me” attitudes were for show; she’d kept them around mainly to brag about herself. Plus, she was the only one who had a car.

No one said anything yet about Cordelia’s change in attitude, but it was just a matter of time. They saw her without guys, for one thing. Each one she looked at, someone who’d worship and wait on her hand-and-foot, she saw Buffy's face instead. Besides the fact that there was an agreement, they paled in comparison.

A part of her blamed Buffy for pulling her away from the world she was used to, but Buffy hadn't forced her to care.

The more time they spent together, the more she told herself to ditch her circle. Who she truly was came out around Buffy and the others.  She should explore that, and give her junk to Good Will.

She also told herself the opposite. Cling desperately to her possessions and followers.  If she took Buffy's path, she'd go into the unknown and never come out. If Buffy decided to dump her, she'd be stuck. It wasn’t too late to go back to—Wait.

Someone was knocking. Cordelia went to get the door. She’d sent the maid home once her parents left for another party. They could take a cab home.

"Hi," greeted her visitor when the door was opened.

Another rule was about to be broken—Buffy was at her house.

* * *

 

"Hey," Cordelia responded, noticing the other girl’s tension. "What's wrong?"

"Funny story—there're some unstoppable assassins after me, and I think they might know where I live." Buffy thought her synopsis succinct enough. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Assassins? Why would anyone want to—?" Cordelia then remembered the line of work the slayer was in. "Oh, right."

"Yeah, the Order of Tarragon. Giles said I should be wigged, so I am." Buffy stood there, waiting. "I'm not invited?" She frowned, eyes shifting nervously.

"Duh," Cordelia sighed, resisting the urge to smack forehead, "of course you are." Her guest smiled gratefully and then walked in, shutting the door behind. "Damn! What if you're a vampire?!"

Buffy chuckled. "Here." She took Cordelia’s hand and placed it over her heart. "Satisfied?"

Cordelia felt it beating, but that wasn't all she could feel. "Uh huh."

Seconds passed until Buffy finally cleared her throat, and a palm none-too-suavely abandoned her chest. "I don't think they'll come here, but I don't want you to get hurt, either...you know, it's probably safer if I just go to Angel's."

"Angel's?" Cordelia got in front of the door. "No, no, no, no, no...it's fine! I accept the risks, I promise. And besides, you don't wanna bother him...he's probably busy doing...good vampire things. Like reorganizing his blood packets or...eww! I just totally grossed myself out." She took a breath. "Stay."

This was what happened. All confusion vanished, and she turned into a rambling, insane woman who needed Buffy in sight at all times. Life was simpler when she was around, yet complicated.

Especially during physical contact. Cordelia knew Buffy liked making her incoherent, but she liked seeing that smile, so it was even. Mostly.

"Him and me..." Buffy hesitated, then answered the unvoiced question. "I don't."

Cordelia absorbed the news, a small smile forming. "You don't?"

Buffy shook her head in the negative. It was another one of those moments again, and like the last, they let it pass. Why risk ruining this whole thing before it started?

"Man, look at this place."

"Daddy always says you can't have enough luxury. Or scotch," Cordelia smirked. "So let's get this 'Waiting for Monsters to Come Kill Us' slumber party started—want anything?"

"I actually am sorta hungry. D’you have _Doritos?_ Or something _Doritos_ -like? Just gotta quiet my stomach."

"Lemme check." Cordelia led her into the living room. "Make yourself at home. TV, couch...feel free."

Buffy headed straight for the sofa like it was calling out to her. "Thanks."

"It's no problem, really." Cordelia went to search the cupboards in the kitchen. "How's Giles?"

"Still marching in the Guilt Parade. And Miss Calendar acting like he doesn't exist whenever they see each other, isn't helping," Buffy sighed.

"She was possessed by a demon he helped make."

"I know, but he's my watcher, so I kinda have to join his camp. I wanna hit Ethan so bad. First it was Halloween..." Buffy yawned, and then she drifted.

Cordelia was gone only a few minutes, but when she came back in, her exhausted guest was fast asleep. The view made her breath catch. There were no worry lines, no signs of stress or pain, strength or weakness...the layers had been stripped away.

Nothing artificial covered Buffy’s features. No makeup, nothing to hide imperfections. This was _Buffy_ , pure and simple, and she was blown away.

Taking the blanket off the top of the sofa and draping it over her friend, Cordelia didn't even remember the meaning of “popularity.” How could she not love this girl?

The answer was easy now, but as soon as she went upstairs, every fear would resurface. Still, she wouldn't forget that she’d gotten to see the toughest, most selfless person she knew, at her most unguarded. And that was sort of special.

* * *

 

 

The ringing of a telephone cut short Cordelia’s beauty rest.

"Hello?" God, this was the last thing she needed in the morning. "No, I'm not driving you to her house ... Um, ‘cause she's not missing? Moron ... Why do I know that?"

Oh no—why did she? Hell with it. It was too early to come up with an excuse.

"Because she's downstairs sleeping ... Yes, here ... It's not a difficult concept ... I dunno, ask her ... I don't have to prove it ... I have her severed head in a jar? You're majorly disturbed, y’know that? Don't you have to go burn ants with a magnifying glass or something? ... Yeah, _that_ was witty."

Becoming more awake by the second, Cordelia could hear banging downstairs.

"Who are you?" Buffy's voice was asking someone.

Cordelia cringed, hoping it wasn't the maid. "I hafta go ... Shut up ... She'll call, okay? Bye."

Rushing to the foyer, she saw it definitely wasn't the maid. Buffy was facing off with...was the girl Caribbean? Couldn't tell, but they were in almost identical fighting stances.

"I'm Kendra, da Vampire Slayer," came the thick-accented answer.

"What?" Cordelia and Buffy echoed.

"Time," said Cordelia, her hands forming a T. "A recap would be nice."

"Heard noise outside. Caught her snooping. We fought. Kinda stalemated," Buffy told her side of the story.

Kendra cautiously let her guard down. "I was sent 'ere by me watcher. He told me dat I would find a man by dee name of Rupert Giles at a school—da watcher in dis area. I began heading dere last night, when I saw you."

She looked at Buffy. "I sensed dat you were strong. I followed you, and watched as you were invited into dis place. I eventually came to dee conclusion dat you were not a demon."

"Eventually? What took so long?" Buffy asked, incredulous.

"You were staring at her neck a lot," responded Kendra, to which Cordelia's brow rose. "It is none of my business."

"Damn right it isn't," Buffy said angrily, trying to not blush. "And if you 'came to dat conclusion,' why were you still lurking?" Mocking helped.

"I wasn't. I came back only a few minutes ago, waiting for you to awaken," Kendra defended herself. "You are a slayer as well, aren't you?"

"Last time I checked."

"I was going to introduce meself, but I was attacked."

Buffy looked guilty then, and relaxed. "I've been edgy. Thought you were one of the bad guys...sorry."

"She has this 'Assassin' issue," explained Cordelia.

"Assassin?" Kendra questioned curiously.

"We can play _Twenty Questions for a Slayer_ at the library," Cordelia declared, and then looked at the out-of-towner. "You need to meet Giles," then to Buffy, "and you need to stop Xander Harris from being an even bigger idiot than he already is."

She waited for objections, but none were uttered. " _After_ you clean up the mess from your little, 'Chosen One Showdown.' ‘Cause there's no way in hell I am."

Both slayers looked ashamed. 

* * *

 

 

Talking more with Kendra in the library, Buffy learned that during the few hours the other slayer hadn't been spying, she'd been in Willy's bar. Angel too; he’d gone there for information. Slayer and vampire fought, and she locked him in the storage room cage—where sun easily shined in. Willy sold him out to Spike before crispiness occurred.

It took some convincing to get Kendra’s help with the rescue. While the arguing went on, Xander had been at her house. Not believing Cordelia, he hurried over there as fast as his legs would take him, running into “The Bug Guy” assassin. Cordelia later said, following his narrow escape, "Told you so."

When it came down to it, assassins assassinated and Angel dying, Kendra was by Buffy’s side. Not only were Spike and Drusilla now history (the old church they'd used went up in flames), but she’d also made a new friend. Though it wasn't like what she'd accomplished mattered much anymore.

It wasn’t even a week after, and here she sat, a murderer.

"Buffy!" Xander said as he and Willow came into the school lounge and sat by her. "Are you okay?"

"How come you're here?" asked Willow.

"I couldn't stay at home...Mom won't even look at me," said Buffy sadly.

"What happened? Unless you don't wanna talk about it."

Buffy had killed her mom’s boyfriend. Knocked a man down a flight of steps. It felt like everyone in here knew. Like they were staring, eyes full of accusation.

"We had a fight and I lost my temper. I really let him have it."

"The paper said he fell," Willow said.

"He fell. Hard."

"What was he?" Xander wondered.

"What?"

"What was he? A-a demon? A giant bug? Some kind of dark god with the secrets of Nouvelle cuisine? I mean, we are talking creature-feature here, right?" That's what he assumed, but Buffy lowered her eyes. "Oh man."

"But I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Willow defended her. "He started it."

"Yeah, that defense only works in six-year-old court, Will," Buffy hated to say.

"Court? Wa-wait, are they charging you with something?" Xander was rightly concerned.

She shook her head. "I-I don't know. Not yet." For a long moment, she didn't speak. "He was a person, and I killed him."

"Don't say that!" Willow spoke sharply.

"Why not? Everyone else is...and it's the truth."

Xander argued, "It was an accident."

Buffy wouldn't excuse herself. "I'm the Slayer—I had no right to hit him like that."

"Look, Buffy, I don't know what happened exactly. But I do know you; and I know you would never hurt anyone intentionally." He sincerely wanted to help; she appreciated it. "Well, you know, unless..."

"Unless they were dating my mother?" completed Buffy as the three of them turned to see Cordelia and Flock enter the lounge.

Cordelia locked eyes with her, and in full view, walked over to give a hug.

"I gotta go," Buffy whispered.

"It'll be okay," Cordelia softly promised.

While Buffy got up and left, Xander looked at Willow and asked, "What's goin' on?"

Everyone probably wanted to know that, Flock included.


	6. Five

"Will, what am I gonna do?" Buffy questioned as they walked through the quad.

"What do you wanna do?"

She felt it, or at least thought she did. Everything inside had been screaming, “Just Admit It!” since Cordelia’s very public support. Doubts became certainties; she was oddly giddy. Cordelia had to be pretty sure too, if her risky decision was meant to speak for itself.

Oh, “Ted” had been a robot, thank god. And a twisted one at that—Parcheesi? Right.

"I think I'm going to," answered Buffy, nearing complete confidence. "Tell her."

_'You only live once, right? Well, in my case twice.'_

"Wow..."

"Yeah...so what d'you think?"

"I think 'wow,'" said Willow. "Especially ‘cause I'm not used to being a ‘Cordelia Supporter.’ Hating her with a fiery passion? Can do.

“I'd have to be a fool, a big fool, if I didn't see that she cares about you, though," she smiled brightly. "It's-it’s still hard to accept a little, but when the aftermath ensues, I'll be behind you a hundred and ten percent."

"Oh yeah," Buffy frowned, "the aftermath. Does Xander know?"

"Nope, I'm proud of myself. I pretended I had Laryngitis for a week so he wouldn't make me talk, then he went back to his usual," Willow pouted. "Ogling girls that aren't me." 

"You can't spend the rest of your life waiting for Xander to wake up and smell the hottie," Buffy pointed out yet again.

"I know, but..." Willow trailed off, not wishing to have that discussion. "So are you?"

"I am—I'm gonna do it." Resolve boosted with every step.

"Wow..."

"Speaking of 'Wow' potential, there's Oz over there." Buffy referred to the guy on the bench strumming his guitar. Willow had met him during Career Week. "What are we thinking, any sparkage?"

Huge smile. This was the first time Willow had been interested in not Xander.

"He's nice. I-I like his hands."

"Mm...a fixation on insignificant detail is a definite crush sign," Buffy concluded. "For me, it's Cordelia's mole."

"Oh! That's a good one!" Willow got shy again quick. "I don't know, though; I mean, he is a senior. An-and he’s in a band and..."

"Hey, you're talking to a girl who's about to go all 'Alternative Lifestyle' and tell the most popular girl in school that she loves her,” Buffy reminded them both. “So I will hear no excuses. Make a move—do the talking thing.”

Willow glanced at Oz, then back at Buffy. "Wh-what if the 'talking' thing becomes the 'awkward-silence' thing?"

"Well, you won't know until you try."

As her friend trudged bravely over, Buffy steeled herself—there’d be no turning back.

* * *

 

 

A confrontation was low on the list of things she wanted right now. Cordelia had just spent an embarrassing weekend in Vegas watching her parents gamble. They even had the nerve to call it family time. 

She needed to decompress, but Harmony, Karen, and some other girl whose name Cordelia didn't remember, were cornering her in the bathroom. Swell. Okay, yes, the hug crossed a socially unacceptable line, but Buffy had needed it.

She was caring less and less about opinions. They hadn’t reached a decision yet, though. Meaning she'd have to think of a lie until they could talk.

"Okay, we're concerned about you so, as your friends, we thought we should have a...a..." Harmony couldn't think of the word.

"An intervention?" Cordelia supplied.

"See? I told you I knew what it was called!" Harmony snapped at the others. "Yeah, so, we couldn't help noticing how long there’s been no guy. At first we figured it was just a 'Begging Strike,' but you didn't ask us to join. Then as if that wasn't horrible enough, Jack saw you with Buffy and Willow in L.A. He told Josh, who told Tiffany, then Tiffany told Amber, then Amber told Karen, and then Karen told me. I didn't wanna believe it."

"Sounds like a real reliable system." Sarcasm was used to Cordelia’s advantage yet again. "Shoulda heard it through the grapevine instead; at least then you'd have fruit."

As usual, it went over the ditz’s head. "Huh?" 

Cordelia sighed. Why did she want to be popular again?

"Uh, anyway, we're...you know, worried. ‘Cause then we saw you...hug her," Harmony grimaced, causing the girls in flanking positions to copy her. "Spending that much time with losers is obviously unhealthy for you."

"They're not losers." Cordelia briefly considered that. "Fine, maybe Xander..."

"They've brainwashed you into defending them? How tragic!" squealed Harmony. "Come on, there's plenty of guys out there! Tell us how we can help.

“Ooh! We can go to the spa across town after school and put it all behind you. My dad knows a guy who knows a guy that's having an affair with a girl who works there, so we got free passes."

"Look, Harmony, it's not as bad as you think..."

"You're in denial, honey," the girl she didn't know, said.

"You poor thing," added Karen sympathetically.

"No, really. You know I went away with my parents, right?" Cordelia had to think of something fast; they nodded expectantly. "Well, I got tired of watching them foam at the mouth playing their slot machines, so I went up to my room and saw this yummy-looking bellhop."

She wanted to gag.

"We started talking, but we both knew what it was leading to the whole time."

"You mean you...did it with him?" Harmony deduced.

Gazes of admiration all around.

Cordelia nodded. "He was Mexican, and he quiero me." She fanned herself exaggeratedly. "And south of the border? Whew."

"Mexican? That's _so_ exotic! You have to tell us _all_ the details!"

The Flock giggled, and there was a string of “Oh My God's.” Cordelia had to remember to tell Buffy it was untrue, because this was going to spread like wildfire. Unfortunately, she had no idea Buffy was already listening outside the door.

Every word felt like a blow a million times worse than from any demon.

* * *

 

 

Buffy didn’t stick around for those details. She sat at the library's table the next day, drowning in the “Moping and Defeated” stage, with “Anger and Irrationality” not far behind. Leaving school right after she'd heard Cordelia, she spent all her unplanned, free time locked in her room for stage one—heavy sobbing and crying. She really did love her. It wouldn't hurt this much if she didn't.

Buffy’s phone had rung incessantly, but she didn't answer. One guess why. She vaguely recalled her mother fishing for information, and also vaguely recalled not budging.

Those poets might be right. “Love” might be a grand, wonderful thing, but it also sucked when turned against you. All you need is love? No, what Buffy needed was a backup plan and some ice cream.

Giles was coming down the stairs. "Buffy? I didn't hear you come in. How are you this morning?" He walked up beside her, worried by her silence. "Buffy, are you all right?"

"What? Fine, I'm fine," she responded, snapping back to reality.

"Yes..." He didn't think she was, but didn't press it. "Well, I believe birthday wishes are in order."

It was her birthday? Funny how that didn't make her feel better.

She forced a smile for him. "Thanks, Giles."

Willow hurried through the doors then, attempting calm and casual, but not pulling it off. When she saw Buffy and saw she didn't have to break the news, she relaxed considerably.

"You heard, didn't you?" she asked, sitting down.

"Straight from the horse's mouth," sighed Buffy.

Giles, obviously sensing this was none of his business, went to catalog.

Willow was shocked. "You're at name-calling already?"

"It's an expression, Will." Buffy thought for a second. "No, maybe I am at name-calling. You warned me, and I didn't listen—guess I was setting myself up for this."

"Maybe there's another explanation." Willow's eyes widened. "Oh, but did you hear what she...?"

She was then stared at, hard—screw other explanations.

"I'm shutting up." Except she remembered something. "But! Sorry, I know I said I was gonna shut up, but this isn't about that, and I won't bring it up again ever, unless you wanna throw darts at her head, ‘cause, uh, I had-had her yearbook picture blown up and I put it on my door sometimes when I'm really mad at her and...Happy Birthday."

Buffy smiled genuinely this time—darts?

Now it was Xander's turn to enter, and he stood behind Willow's chair.

"It's the woman of the hour! For she's a jolly good slayer, for she's a jolly good slayer..." His lame jokes going over worse than usual, he stopped. "How ‘bout that Cordelia, huh? Gotta wonder how much room’s left on that bedpost."

"Ya know, I have a class that's starting...or half over." Buffy abruptly and understandably excused herself. "I should probably attend. I'll-I'll catch you guys later." 

* * *

 

 

When she was gone, Xander frowned. "Well, that's not a perky, birthday puppy." His redheaded friend slapped his chest. "What was that for?"

"Arm spasm," said Willow.

He looked at her strangely. "O...kay."

"So much for our surprise party," she lamented. "I bought little hats and everything."

"Buffy's surprise party will go ahead as we planned...except I won't be wearing the little hat,” Giles informed them, coming back and heading behind the counter.

"Giles, I don't think she—"

"Buffy's turning seventeen just this once and she deserves a party. Something is clearly bothering her, but we shall just have to raise her spirits."

"You're a great man of our time," Xander said as he was slapped a second time, raising his suspicions. "'Nother one?"

"It comes and goes," Willow shrugged.

* * *

 

 

"Buffy, are you okay?" Angel asked after the vampire she'd been fighting was dust.

The gang, along with Oz and Cordelia, had come to the Bronze for her party. Willow wanted to throw somebody out, as somebody’d been invited before deciding to break her friend's heart, but Willow figured that pleasure should be Buffy's. They'd been waiting for Miss Calendar to bring her when the window-crashing and slaying went down.

"Yes, wh-what happened?" Giles asked.

Buffy gestured behind her. "Uh, there were these vamps outs..." She glanced around at all of the decorations and presents. "Wh-what's going on?"

"Oh, um...a surprise party." He blew on a noisemaker he'd been holding.

"Happy Birthday," said Cordelia, smiling.

Seeing her, Buffy turned immediately to Angel, flashed him a big smile, and then rubbed a hand along his chest. "You guys did all this for me? That is so sweet."

"You sure you're okay?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Cordelia didn't look happy—what a shame.

"Are _you_ okay?" Willow asked Oz.

"Yeah. Hey, did everybody see that guy just turn to dust?" her date wondered.

"Uh, well, uh...sort of?" she lamely responded.

"Yep, vampires are real...a lot of them live in Sunnydale...Willow'll fill you in," Xander sighed and walked off.

She started to. "I know it's hard to accept at first..."

"Actually, it explains a _lot_ ," Oz said.

Cordelia came over once Buffy managed to tear herself from Angel. "Okay, why won't you talk to me? And what was with the show?"

Buffy laughed at her nerve. "Please tell me you're joking—like you don't know."

"No, Buffy, I don't know." Cordelia was almost believed.

"Why are you even—?"

Miss Calendar entered the club then, carrying a large, odd-shaped box. "Hey, can somebody give me a hand here?"

* * *

 

 

Angel and Giles took it from her, setting it on a table, and Buffy walked away from her conversation.

"Those creeps left this behind," continued Miss Calendar.

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"I have no idea," Giles said, puzzled. "Can-can it be opened?"

"Yeah...this looks like a release right here."

She got the box open only to find a severed arm inside. Before she was able to properly voice her disgust, it rose up to choke her. Angel quickly grabbed hold. After a few seconds, he was able to wrench it from her neck and force it back into the box.

"Well, clearly the Hellmouth's answer to, 'What do you get the slayer who has everything?'" Xander, though frightened, tried to quip.

"Good heavens—Buffy, are you all right?" Giles said, taken aback.

Though she didn't want to, Cordelia stood in the background, showing her concern silently, because she didn't feel all that welcome.

Buffy coughed. "Man, that thing had major grip."

"Wh-what was that?" Willow couldn’t hide the fear.

Oz stated the obvious. "It looked like an arm."

"It can't be. She wouldn't." Angel shook his head in disbelief.

"What, vamps version of 'Snakes in a Can,' or do you care to share?" Xander asked, still with the humor.

"It-it's a legend...way before my time...of a demon brought forth to rid the Earth of the plague of humanity...separate the righteous from the wicked...and to burn the righteous down. They call him the Judge."

"The Judge? This is he?" Giles deduced.

"Not all of him."

Buffy raised her hand. "Um, still needing backstory here?"

"Um...he, he-he couldn't be killed, yes? Um, a-an army was sent against him. Most of them died...but, uh, finally they were able to dismember him, but, uh...not kill him," explained her watcher.

Leaving Angel to finish. "The pieces were scattered...buried in every corner of the Earth."

"So all these parts are being brought here," Miss Calendar realized.

"By Drusilla—the vamps outside were Spike's men," Buffy told everyone.

So, not as dead as they’d all thought.

"She's just crazy enough to do it." Angel knew his childe well.

Willow was confused. "Do what, reassemble the Judge?"

"And bring forth Armageddon."

A plan was formulated by Miss Calendar of all people. Angel would board a cargo ship and try to take the box as far away from Sunnydale as possible, tonight. She volunteered to drive him to the docks.

Buffy wanted to go along to say goodbye, because no one knew when he'd be back. Also, this was a great opportunity for her to get back at Cordelia. She couldn't pass it up.

* * *

  

She followed Angel into his apartment later that night, arms wrapped around herself and shivering from the rain they'd run through. He was going to get on the boat, but they were ambushed by more of Spike's men, who stole the box. While that happened, she’d ended up in the water somehow. Angel dove in after her.

Miss Calendar had dropped them off at the library and then went home, frustrated about something. Everyone was researching, hoping to find a way to stop the Judge, but all the books called him un-killable. Buffy decided she and Angel should at least scope out the Anointed One’s old factory. Where else would Spike, Dru and the Judge be?

She’d momentarily debated whether to speak with Cordelia before leaving, but, firmly in the “Anger” stage, off to the factory she and Angel went. Getting there, they saw Drusilla having a party of her own, with an assembled Judge as a guest. They very barely escaped having the humanity burnt out of them.

"You're shaking like a leaf," he noticed.

Her teeth were chattering. "Cold."

"Let me get you something."

As she watched him get her clothes from his armoire, the only thing she could think was: _'Angel would never sleep with a bellhop.'_

Something was wrong with that thought.

"Put these on—get under the covers, just to warm up," he said, and she sat on his bed. When he didn't turn away, she stared until he got the message. "Sorry."

She audibly winced as she took off her first layer.

Angel naturally asked, "What?"

"Oh, um...it's okay. I just have...a cut or something." Was it her imagination or was it warming up in here?

"Can I...?" He then tapered off, hesitant. "Let me see."

Buffy held her shirt to her chest. "Okay."

Angel turned to face her, eventually sitting on the bed as well. He touched her back softly, inspecting the cut. Uh oh...dangerous territory.

Her body was in conflict with her brain. If she did allow something to happen, would she really be in the wrong? Cordelia slept with someone, why couldn't she? Perfect rationale. They'd be even—no harm, no foul.

And it wasn't like he wasn't attractive...but, she didn't love him. She'd be using him, and she couldn't do that. Could she?

"It's already closed; you're fine," Angel said with relief, and she leaned back into him, letting their faces touch as he put his arms around her. "I..."

He felt good, very good.

"You what?" Buffy asked him softly.

It was so tempting—to make her hurt like she was hurting. Would Cordelia even have a reaction?

"I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop." He spoke with such emotion, and she was hit with it.

They began kissing feverishly. This was the “Irrationality” stage; she was supposed to be irrational. But...did he say he loved her? Why'd he have to do that? This wasn't her. She was better than Cordelia. She wasn't the kind of person who could just...

Pulling back, she ended the stage before making a mistake she would've regretted. Probably.

"I can't. I'm sorry. It..." She was ashamed. "I don't wanna hurt you."

He stood up, putting distance between them as he tried to calm himself down in more ways than one. "Because you don't."

"There's somebody else."

"Cordelia," said Angel while she slipped on the dry sweater he'd given her.

Buffy's eyes went wide. "How'd—?"

"Willow told me at the party," he revealed. "She was upset, and talked... _really_ fast, but I think I got the general idea."

"Then why'd you let me kiss you?"

"For a second, I..." Angel lost the words, because saying them would've made it even harder. "If you love her, hear her side."

And here began the “Facing the Music: Good or Bad,” stage.

"Know it's not the same, and I know this'll sound like a line...but could we possibly be friends?" She was hopeful.

"I wouldn't mind." He masked how brokenhearted he actually was, she knew that. "You should stay here until the storm blows over. And then—"

"—and then I'll go talk to her," she finished for him. "So...wanna play _Go Fish_?"


	7. Six

Back at Sunnydale High, Cordelia had moved to the library table with Willow, switching places with Giles and Xander. She was trying to discover how to save the human race, and not think about what was up with Buffy. One day they were fine, the next, the slayer couldn't stand being around her. She’d tried calling probably a dozen times—a low estimate.

Willow was giving her dirty looks. Her fears were coming true. Buffy had disappeared, and now she was stuck. Well, she could go back, but it wouldn't be the same. Not that she couldn’t fake it if she had to. Harmony and the others certainly bought her lie.

The lie she didn't even get to tell Buffy abou...

"I'm such an idiot!"

It was all falling into place. Buffy had heard, setting in motion the typical, chain reaction. Why didn't she see it sooner? The avoidance, the silence, the flirting with Angel...and the final stage of revenge was...

Xander poked his head out from behind a shelf. "Did you just say what I think you said? And I didn't get it on tape? Damn."

"Willow, where's Angel's apartment?" Cordelia asked quickly.

"Why?" Willow snapped.

"’Cause if somebody I thought I was on the verge of...something with, had sex with a person not me, I know what I'd do." Cordelia didn't like the feeling in her stomach.

"Hah! You admit it!" Willow’s forehead wrinkled. "I think."

Sigh. "Just tell me."

"No!" Willow had been holding it in—not anymore. "How could you do that to her? I mean, we all knew you were evil, but even I didn't think you could stoop this low!"

"Willow—" There was no time.

"I'm not finished! And suddenly I’m-I'm feeling very brave, so it’s a good thing I've got a whole, sixteen years to complain about after this. I can go for a long time, trust me!" Willow went off. "It's not like she found out from some random person, either—she heard it from you! Rumors are one thing, because you can't prove them, but-but...you suck! And I hate your shoes!"

Whoa, she said “suck.”

"She was coming to tell you she loves you, and you were going on and on about your new, hay-rolling guy: 'Mr. Macho, Indian Desk Clerk Man!'"

"She what?" Xander and Cordelia echoed. Talk about bad timing.

"Yeah, and she was really excited."

"First? It was a _Mexican bellhop_ —" Cordelia tried.

How that stuff mutated was beyond her.

Willow glared. "Like that's so much better!"

"I love her, too!" It took a second for Cordelia’s own words to register—she did. Wow. "There wasn’t a desk clerk, or a bellhop, or a room service guy...there wasn’t anybody. Harmony grew part of a brain, so I made it all up. Meaning it's _false_.

“I have way higher standards. I was gonna tell her, but I never got the chance. Now tell me where the damn apartment is."

"Dayton Street. Two blocks b-before the Bronze." Willow sat stunned as her once tormenter bolted through the doors. "Darn, I feel like a big meanie. Plus I'm pretty sure my throat's all red now."

"Willow, you might want to fetch some water," advised Giles from the stacks. "Xander appears to have fainted."

* * *

 

 

"D’you have any, um, threes?" Buffy asked, looking at her cards as she and Angel sat on the floor of his apartment.

"What're the rules again?"

"This is sad." She shook her head. "You've been around two-hundred years, and you can't even play _Go Fish_."

"I like _Gin_ ," he semi-explained.

Buffy made a face. "You wanna get me drunk?"

"It's another card game."

"Oh." She hid her embarrassment well. "Think I should call the library and see if they got anything ye—?"

Just then, someone started pounding on the door. Before either of them could react, it flew open. A drenched Cordelia came charging in.

"Get your vampy hands the hell off my girlfriend!" she ordered, not actually surveying first. "Oh god, I'm too late!" She then saw the cards in their hands. "...Don’t most people smoke after sex?"

"There was no sex," Buffy finally spoke. "There was gonna be, but instead we figured...cards." She smiled slightly, amused. "Talk about two, completely unrelated...did you say 'girlfriend'?"

Angel had gotten up and grabbed the blanket off his bed, which he gave to Cordelia. "Here, you're soaked. I...don't have any towels."

She looked apologetic. "I ran. Kinda didn't think to take my car."

He looked up the stairs and past his door, listening. "I think the rain's letting up. I'm gonna make sure they aren't still searching for us."

They watched him leave, and then it was awkward. 

* * *

 

 

"Haven't got squat on the Judge." Cordelia put the blanket around her shoulders.

"Our only option is panicking? Great, there goes my reputation as a superhero," grumbled Buffy discontentedly. "He's connected and powered up now, and a not-dusty Spike and Drusilla are definitely working with him. But at least Spike's wheelchair-bound.

"Girlfriend?"

"You didn't sleep with him?" Cordelia wanted confirmation. When Buffy shook her head, she exhaled in relief. "I just had to get Harmony off my case. None of it’s true."

Buffy's eyes grew guiltily wide. She'd almost endangered what they had by jumping to a faulty conclusion? She felt lower than whatever was lower than scum.

"You know what this means, don't you? It means I can still be pretty bitch-like. Some of the things I was thinking, _saying_..." She prepared to put herself through hell.

"How ‘bout we just forget this happened?" Cordelia requested as the physical gap between them closed.

Buffy nodded readily. “’Kay. Easy. Done.”

"And anyway, everybody has their inner-bitch. Even guys. Even me..."

"Get out—you have an inner one, too?" grinned Buffy, her shock a lie.

"’Cause it's like a side-effect...of being a person,” Cordelia mock-glared before slowly smiling. "Wait, there is one thing I wanna remember. Willow, um, said you loved me." Then the smile became a smirk. "But don't ever tick her off."

"Already know the consequences," Buffy smiled back, nervous. "So how'd you take it? When she told you."

Cordelia's expression was indiscernible. "Pretty well. Because it’s kinda, you know, reciprocated. Or, for the dictionary-deficient, it goes both ways."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow. "Huh. Works out then."

"Doesn't it?" Cordelia wrapped her arms around Buffy's neck, and as the blanket fell to the floor, she leaned in. "You don't want Willow’s help with this part too, do you?"

Buffy grinned again. "Gutter much?" 

* * *

 

 

She let Cordelia start this one. After all, it was her turn. Mutual participation quickly made their second kiss significantly better. It’d taken too damn long to get to, so they savored as long as possible before air. Separation allowed faster, shorter kisses.

Buffy gently felt her way through dark, rain-matted locks, and examined her new girlfriend's less than perfect state. Makeup had smeared and washed away, hair wasn't blow-dried or conditioned, and any sense of presentation had been lost.

This was the true Cordelia Chase—maskless and still beautiful.

"I love you," both girls spoke in unison, and the synchronicity resulted in eye-rolling over their unintentional corniness.

It wasn't that they had anything against Willow, they just had to say it to _each other_ to get the full effect. They hugged tightly.

Cordelia then added, “Even the inner-you that makes being a huge, Hellmouth-sized—“

Not wanting to hear the end, Buffy attacked and tasted a bottom lip.

Cordelia breathlessly finished anyway. "—as sexy as I do."

"What about—?"

"Let them say whatever. I'm hotter than all of them combined, and beyond caring."

They proceeded to make out some more, tongues becoming best of friends.

"You should go save the world," Cordelia said during a break. "Nobody else is gonna get off their ass and do it."

"Yeah, Batman's really let himself go," quipped Buffy. "Could use some help figuring out the how."

Cordelia smirked. "Be glad I don't have plans."

They grasped hands, heading out into the night. The music had been faced, and the tune was pretty amazing.

( _Gonna listen more often now?_ Buffy's rational side gloated.)

"Not if you're gonna brag," she muttered, drawing attention. "So, uh, where's my present?"

"Hey! What am I?" Cordelia sounded offended.

"Full of yourself? Just ‘cause you're attractive to the point of unfairly, you think you..." Buffy faltered as if just getting it. "...And I'm talking to Cordelia Chase, so why I am shocked by this?"

"Buffy, you better run. And while you're at it? Pray. Because when I catch you..."

"Like you could."

It was neck-and-neck (and necking) the whole way back to school.

* * *

 

 

Xander was discussing a plan to defeat the Judge with Giles and Willow as Buffy and Cordelia came running through the library doors. A brilliant plan he’d come up with all by himself. By the looks he hoped he was receiving, they thought so also. Who said being the victim of an evil, British sorcerer's spell couldn't be useful?

"Are you positive you'll be able to—?" Giles started, but was distracted by the cheerleader and surprisingly joyful slayer.

"Well?" Cordelia questioned expectantly.

"Well what? We didn't bet," Buffy reminded her.

"Yeah, well...we should have."

"That's what everyone always says after they win." Buffy rolled her eyes, then thought of something. "Y’know, changed my mind. This is me, paying up." She drew ever nearer to Cordelia’s mouth. “S' not money, but I think you'll like."

Meanwhile, Xander felt faint again, Giles looked down at a book, and Willow just smiled. Cordelia had to point to the group, reminding Buffy that they weren't exactly alone. Unfortunately for them.

Buffy blushed accordingly. "Right. Fully functional Judge, Spike on wheels, healthy Drusilla...total annihilation of humanity. I'm on task, I'm focused, I'm ready to do the duty."

"The Judge is complete? And Spike and Drusilla survived? You're certain?" Giles jumped on topic.

"Pretty damn certain."

He nodded resignedly. "Then we have no choice but to go with Xander's plan."

"Could ya be any less confident in me?" Xander wondered, hearing the not so enthusiastic tone.

"It's a sound course of action, however, the most crucial part is all very much dependent on your acting skills," Giles tried to appease him. "And if I recall last year's talent show correctly..."

"Thanks for opening up old wounds, Giles," said Buffy, then she and Willow whimpered. "It was a dumb play, anyway. There—memory slayed."

It took her a moment to refocus.

"Well, since we had zip before Xander's plan, whatever it is, um..." She attempted to come up with something inspiring, but fell short. "Isn't anything better than zip?"

"Man, gotta love all the support in this room. Oh dear god please, hold back," Xander sarcastically quipped.

It didn't matter. Soon they'd be thanking him for saving their hides and feeding him grapes whenever he so desired. Hmm. Maybe not the grapes, but he could dream.

"You know I believe in you, Xand."

"Me too! I was supporting, just...in a quiet way," Willow chimed in. "I thought you knew."

"Hold it—Xander has a plan? _That_ Xander?" Cordelia didn’t disguise her shock.

"And guess what, Cordy? You get to be a major player," smiled Xander cryptically.

She felt Buffy embracing her around the waist in congratulations. "Care to let me in on the plan I'm a part of?"

"No."

"Why not?" she snapped.

He exhaled. "Because if I tell you, then you won't do it."

All three girls raised their eyebrows. 

* * *

 

 

"When d'you think they'll do it?" Willow asked Buffy, as he wasn't divulging.

"Tomorrow night—give the Judge time to recharge."

"I can still 'Clouseau' my way onto the base tonight," Xander offered, and then he became aware of his slip. "I _so_ shoulda picked a different role model." 

"It'd be wiser...strategy, to wait until tomorrow, Xander," interjected Giles. "The less time we illegally possess military property, the more comfortable I shall feel.

"The Council prefers to avoid becoming entangled in governmental affairs, American affairs especially, and I'm afraid I'm not high priority enough for them to deviate from that attitude."

"It's the 'Mother-Child' thing," reasoned Cordelia.

"Aw, Giles! You'd take the rap for us?" Willow beamed, smiling at him.

They all smiled at him in fact, and with a clearing of the throat, he took off his glasses and rubbed them with a cloth from his jacket. "It's simply my belief that the world would be far better off if you all were, not incarcerated."

Willow just smiled bigger. "You love us."

* * *

 

"Since I'm apparently gonna end up on _America's Most Wanted_ , I think I deserve details," Cordelia believed, focusing things back on her. "Like, five minutes ago.”

"We're gonna rendezvous," Xander had always wanted to say that, "with Oz and Willow at her place, then a'weapon-hunting we’ll go."

He scanned her figure. "You'll have to wear something trashy...er. And not so wet. Unless..."

"Hey!" exclaimed the new couple.

He'd blocked out his knowledge of their budding relationship as best he could, but it came rushing back. Though unsure of his stance, the images in his head weren't bad at all.

"Uh, the mind wanders to crazy places. I try to control it, but—"

Willow glared at him. "I'll call Oz and ask if we can use his van."

"I'm thinking it'd be better if I didn't know this stuff, and just stuck to killing the slimy, ugly things," Buffy told the gang. "That way, if I’m questioned later, I can deny."

"How convenient." Xander eyed her untrustingly.

"Back off, Monkey Boy," Cordelia warned him, turning to Buffy. "I need a shower before I start to stink—and I _never_ stink."

"Call when you get home. So I know you're safe." Buffy then kissed her, despite the audience.

"You're gonna be freakishly overprotective now that we're going out, aren't you?"

Buffy didn't hesitate. "Hell yes." They kissed again. "Talk to you later?"

"Count on it," smiled Cordelia broadly.

In a happy daze, Buffy watched her exit the library and then turned to Xander, whose jaw hung open.

"No matter how you feel about us dating, you hafta promise me one thing," she said.

He gulped. "What?"

"Don't let anything happen to her."

He saw how serious she was just by looking at her eyes. "I won't, Buf."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Once the intense moment passed, with a tiny grin, Willow noted, “So I guess you-you guys...um, worked through stuff.”

* * *

  

"Okay, what was that? And who are you?" Cordelia asked the following night.

Xander had just talked their way past a guard and into the base’s weapons’ storage. Of course, she had to be a brainless, sex object, but it had gone smoothly enough.

Searching for what they'd come for, he answered, "Remember Halloween I got turned into a soldier?"

"Yeah." She didn't want to reflect on that night of horrors, but he'd taken charge and helped them all live through it.

"Well, I still remember all of it. I know procedure, ordnance, access codes...everything. I know the whole layout for this base...and I'm pretty sure I can put together an M-16 in fifty-seven seconds."

She was momentarily stupefied. "Well, I'm sort of impressed. But let's just find the thing and get out of here."

"Okay," he agreed. "Uh...you and Buffy...what's the deal there?"

"Please tell me you’re not that dense."

"Allow me to rephrase—why you and Buffy?" Xander corrected. "It for real, or...?"

"Yeah, Xander, it is," Cordelia sighed. "Probably the first real thing I've ever had."

He turned, and she hoped he saw the sincerity on her face. "You don't have a problem with—?"

"Dating a girl? Giving up the throne? Breaking every social rule that's been in place since high schools were invented?" She paused. "Surprisingly? No. I've always set the trends, maybe this'll catch on."

"What? ‘Gay fever’?" asked Xander worriedly.

Gaiety didn't bother him really, but he enjoyed his orientation. His blockage with Buffy and Cordelia had more to do with the fact that, instead of choosing to go for him, they swore off men. Unless they didn't last, but he'd never wish that on his friend. If Cordelia was who she wanted, and she was happy, then that was that.

And Cordelia was much better for her than Angel.

"No, dork-head." Cordelia hit him. "The dissolving of the cliques—the Jocks, the Goths, the Band Nerds, the Computer Nerds, the Audio-Visual Nerds, the Yearbook Nerds..."

There _were_ many sub-categories.

"A school where people can hang with whoever they want to. Without fear of, persecution or whatever."

"And after-school thrashings," he added—couldn't leave those out.

"Cars, cash, class...wouldn't be a factor. I'm like a pioneer."

"If it didn't work for Russia, it ain't gonna work for you. Especially on a Hellmouth." Xander was forcing her to face reality.

"I said _maybe_ ," she reminded him, nearly growling. "Did you find it yet?"

"Almost." There was quiet for a few moments, and then he said, "You love her, huh?"

Cordelia lit up. "She doesn't give me a whole lotta choice."

She was still the girl he'd known his entire life, but he couldn't deny that she had undergone a noticeable transformation.

"This mean the war's over?" he cautiously asked.

"Just because I'm involved with someone who in a moment of insanity chose you for a friend, it doesn't automatically change anything," she told him pointedly.

He smirked. "What if Buffy says different?"

"Then I'll...cave," she admitted. "But until she does, I'm sure you'll still act like a complete loser, and I'll be right there to tell you how cool and witty you're not," she promised with a grin. "Or, if you wanna just admit it..."

"Oh no, it’s _on_." 

* * *

 

The gang walked confidently out of the elevator and into the mall a couple hours later, Buffy leading and Cordelia beside her. Angel was behind them, followed by Giles and Xander (who were carrying the weapon's crate), and behind them, Willow and Oz. Oz suggested that this was where the Judge might go, and he'd been right.

"Everybody keep back—damage control only. Take out any lesser vamps if you can, I'll handle the Smurf," instructed Buffy.

"I'm dating a bad-ass," Cordelia grinned happily to herself.

The Judge was on the second level, but he took a few steps down. Drusilla was overseeing at the top, and her security blocked the exit doors. A man came walking by one side of the ancient, blue demon, and a couple came by the other.

He then extended out his hands. Bolts of energy emanated from them, and when struck, people froze. Soon the energy chained together every person in the immediate area.

"Oh, goody!" Drusilla said gleefully.

Suddenly, a projectile hit the Judge in the chest, breaking his concentration and halting the killing. He yanked the offending object out. "Who dares?"

Standing on a refreshment stand that they’d made their way to, Buffy had a crossbow in hand while her friends ducked and Xander opened the crate.

"Think I got his attention," she said evenly.

"You're a fool—no weapon forged can stop me."

Angel, seeing the enemy beginning to raise an arm again, decided he had to buy Xander and Buffy more time. He leapt over the stand before they could stop him.

His childe saw him instantly, pointing. "Punish Daddy!"

The energy hit him full force and he went rigid as the demon obeyed.

"Hey!" Buffy was given a rocket launcher, which she rested on her shoulder. "That 'no weapon forged' thing? That was then—this is now."

She powered it up and set her sight, opening the trigger guard. The others took cover. Even Drusilla was sane enough to know what it was—she jumped over the railing.

The Judge stared confusedly at the strange device however, releasing Angel.

Despite being very much in pain, Angel scrambled backwards.

"What's that do?" The Judge wondered.

A rocket flew into his chest a second later, and he had his answer. 

* * *

 

 

Drusilla unraveled as hundreds of pieces rained down upon her. She tried to escape, but her sire tackled her to the ground. Struggling for the upper hand, a stake fell out of Angel's coat—they both lunged. Each getting a hold, he won the “Who's Stronger?” contest. Gritting his teeth as he got over her, he turned the sharp end towards her chest.

"I can hear Mummy calling me to the moon. She wants me to play with her, Angel," she smiled contentedly. "In the stars."

"Go see her again, Dru." He rammed the stake home.

Buffy came over as the sprinklers switched on, dousing the smoke—getting drenched was quickly becoming a habit. "You okay?"

He said he was, but his eyes said he needed a minute.

"We'll be, uh...separating the pieces,” she told him. “Chip in whenever."

The mall-goers vacated fast, and that left  them with a re-dismembered Judge.

As Buffy walked away, Angel's eyes darkened. "You just destroyed our best work—she was art. What is it with you?"

His face softened then, eyes widening in disbelief. "No...you...you can't..."

"Couldn't believe I had to sit back while you killed Darla," scowled Angelus. "She made us the man we are today...remember what she felt like?"

Angel didn't want to remember, because this wasn't possible.

"And why'd you do it? For her. Yeah, and look at that—she picked a cheerleader over you, which is just...pathetic." His voice laughed, but it wasn't him. "Know what you need? A break. I'm a nice guy, I'll take over for ya."

"How...?" The demon was out, and the man didn't know what to do.

"Go ahead, keep pretending you’re a choirboy. We don't want them getting concerned about us just yet. But, gotta learn to share—things are about to get _very_ interesting."


	8. Seven

The gang sat on the gym bleachers, matching the rest of the class in attire—red t-shirt with “SUNNYDALE” in yellow lettering on the front, and gray shorts or sweatpants. It allowed the administration to believe students had school spirit. Cordelia and Willow were on either side of Buffy, and Oz and Xander sat a row behind, listening to the coach ramble.

"Sunnydale is becoming more dangerous all the time. And a full moon like tonight tends to bring out the crazies, but with some simple basics of self-defense, each of you can learn how to protect yourself."

"Here's a suggestion—move away from the Hellmouth," said Buffy quietly.

Smiling, Willow spied her friend fingering the gold bracelet she'd worn for the past two weeks, which she said was Cordelia's birthday present to her. It was engraved on the back: 9/7/97.

The coach wasn't done. "What you wanna do is gain advantage of the situation as quickly as possible."

Oz reached forward and put the tag inside his girlfriend's collar. Yes, they were officially a couple. Willow had a musician boyfriend, and “ecstatic” didn't even begin to cover how happy she was. When she looked at him questioningly, he patted her back.

"Tag," he verbally added.

She made sure the other couple saw her smile.

"Your attacker may have the benefit of surprise, but if you plot ahead, then you can turn that advantage to yourself. By being prepared, you have the power. Okay—everyone get into your assigned groups," finished the coach finally.

Buffy got up, flashing a smile at Cordelia when the woman responsible for their grades gestured to her bracelet.

"You'll have to take that off, Summers; I'm sure you don't want it getting broken."

A reluctant Buffy shook her head. "Nope, don't want that."

"I've got pockets," offered Willow, as she wore a sweat-jacket overtop her shirt.

"Thanks, Will." Buffy removed it from her wrist carefully, handed it over, and then walked onto the mats. 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia saw Willow staring at the date. "First time she kissed me."

Then she moved to where she was assigned, and waited for Xander. He was going to be the attacker, so she was going to get to hurt him. Finally, a class she could enjoy.

Meanwhile, Willow's mouth formed an “O”—how uncharacteristically sweet.

She placed the bracelet in a pocket while going to wait for Oz, thinking about how she and Cordelia had put their “incident” behind them. Having gotten off easy, she planned to use the forgiveness as friendship fuel. Aside from being a cheerleader, Cordelia was one of them now; Willow wanted her to feel accepted.

Both girls looked over at the Scooby men and wondered why the heck they were talking to Larry, the school's head jock.

* * *

  

"What happened?" Xander asked, his eyes drifting to a bandaged arm.

"Oh, last week some huge dog jumped out of the bushes, and bit me—thirty-nine stitches," Larry explained. "They oughta shoot those strays."

"I've been there, man." Oz held up his finger. "My cousin Jordy just got his grownup teeth in? Does not like to be tickled."

"So, Harris, that thing going around about Buffy taking our best meat off the market, it true? ‘Cause that's a damn shame—Cordelia was Grade-A of the highest quality. And here I always thought you just couldn't close the deal," Larry smirked.

If he had about fifty or sixty more pounds of muscle, Xander would've decked him, but he didn't, so he kept his cool. "You wanna know, Lar? Ask her."

The beefier male appeared somewhat frightened.

"Or not." Xander exchanged smirks with Oz before they headed to where they were supposed to be.

* * *

  

Larry approached a girl doing stretching exercises. "Theresa! Be still my shorts—we're in the same group. I may have to attack you."

"No, a-a-actually, I think, uh, in our group there are a few of us," responded Theresa.

Buffy joined them. "And I'm one of the few—something you wanted to ask me? It's not my opinion on the O-Zone, is it? ‘Cause you don't wanna get me started."

He just stood there.

"Come on, you have a burning desire to learn,” she said. “I can tell these things."

Willow dragged her away from him then. "Don't forget, you're supposed to be a meek, little girlie-girl like the rest of us."

Buffy watched Willow go back to her spot, and pouted. "Spoil my fun."

A few minutes later, the coach had explained the procedure, and Larry had his arm around Buffy's neck, feeling more powerful now. She was faking in her attempts to flip him over, adding some grunts for good measure. Everyone stopped to look in their direction.

"Why doesn't she just—?" Cordelia began to ask Xander, but then Larry grabbed her girlfriend's backside. There was rage. "If she doesn't, I will."

Within a second, Larry was groaning on his back, and Buffy spoke from above.

"Meat's bad for you, didn't you know? Vegetables are a lot healthier—see what they've done for me?"

Xander grinned. "Love when she does that."

"The pain'll wear off," grumbled Cordelia. "Know what I would've done?"

He backed away immediately.

* * *

 

 

"It probably would’ve been a hell of a lot more permanent—because you're a superhuman freak," Cordelia was reiterating to Buffy as they walked into the library ahead of their friends. "That's all I'm saying."

Buffy brushed aside the venom-less “insult.” "Four words—Snyder, my life, unbearable," she succinctly said. "This is the longest I've stayed below radar; a few more weeks and I get a medal. Least that's what the janitor told me."

"Hey, I've got no love for Larry, but I wouldn't wish that on any registered male in the gender." Xander cringed at the mere thought. "Except Angel."

Buffy glared in his direction.

"You're, uh, with me on this, right, Oz?"

"It's off-limits," agreed Oz.

Willow couldn't contribute—she was blushing too much.

Cordelia was unmoved. "See how much I don't care?"

Buffy raised her brows. It had just hit home that Cordelia was apparently unforgiving to people who hurt or upset her, and she made a mental note to avoid doing so at all costs.

Giving her a quick kiss, she said, "I'm glad you're on my side."

Xander instinctively moved to protect his groin, the glint in Cordelia's eye worrying him. He wished he was an athlete and therefore qualified to wear a cup.

"I-I...I need a book. Ooh, like," blurted Willow suddenly, "See Spot Run, or...The Cat in the Hat!"

They looked at her strangely, but she needed memories of innocent, childhood things with no talk of...boy stuff. Or girl stuff.

"Remember how his hat was real long an-and big and had lots of stuff insi..." Willow swallowed then, eyes bugging out—when did her mind become so corrupted? "Look, a globe!" She pointed, diverting their gazes and proceeding to bite her fingernails.

Buffy gulped. "A globe?" She backed up to the doors, reaching for Cordelia’s hand and glancing around. "Are there diagrams?"

"The day's still young," Xander told the cold, hard truth as he followed her lead. "They’re coming."

Continuing to reverse, the trio unfortunately bumped into the returning librarian.

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed in surprise, whirling to face him. "We were just, um...hoping to run into you…weren't we, guys?"

Her friend and girlfriend nodded along.

"You know, this being the library and all..." She gave Giles a weak smile. "But the literalness was..."

"An unexpected bonus." Xander accepted the task of doing a schmooze job with a nervous laugh. "Have I told you how much I think 'librarian' is a fantastic career choice? Lately?"

Giles eyed the children. "I found something in the paper this morning. It may only be coincidence, but I have a theory you'll all want to hear," he announced. "And I should accompany you on patrol tonight, Buffy—I suspect you'll need the aid."

The trapped, superhuman freak clung to her significant other. "Save me." 

* * *

 

 

Angel's apartment looked ransacked.

Books scattered all over, table smashed to bits, pictures and paintings torn, and their frames broken. The statue kept locked in its own glass case, was in pieces. The fridge was lying open on the floor with all the packets inside, empty. Blood had splattered everywhere, and his desk, chair, and armoire were shoved up against the door.

In the bedroom, he sat shivering with covers around him, back to the wall. His face was ashen. A couple days from now, his cheekbones would be visible beneath the skin.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd fed.  He knew he couldn't. He’d destroyed his home, barricading himself inside, not understanding why the curse no longer kept his demon at bay.

So he had to fight alone, fight for control of his own body. Angelus wanted to kill again, and far worse. Angel was using every ounce of strength to prevent that from happening, spoiling his blood supply and starving himself. There was no other choice.

"This doesn't belong to you anymore, Soul Boy; you gave up the deed when you asked her to let me in."

_\- I'm not afraid. Show me. Show me your world. -_

"We both know you can’t keep this up, and when the sun goes down, I'm gonna bleed the first blonde I see—hear they go down easy." Angelus loved freedom. "Hmm. California girls."

"I won't let you touch her," Angel swore.

"You haven't seen her in weeks, she hasn't taken any time out of her busy schedule to pay you a visit...isn't she supposed to care? Here's a thought—she doesn't give a crap about you. But wait, that doesn't matter, because you're the big, tortured hero." His demon was annoyed with the “Good Fight.” "Get over yourself already."

"She's living her life," Angel argued. "She's got more important things...to worry about."

"Just because she's the Slayer, because she saved the world...it suddenly revolves around her? It’s all about what _she_ wants? Open your eyes—they're all the same, and you fell for the act. And now she’s got a new toy she just can’t stop playing with," grinned Angelus. "What a bitch, huh?"

Angel knew what it was trying to do; he would never hate Buffy. If she'd been happy with Cordelia these past weeks, good. She should take advantage of the time she had. 

* * *

 

 

"If you go out there, he'll hunt us down."

"Ooh, I'm getting chills," was Angelus’ sarcastic response. "Spike'll be spinning his wheels for a while. I bet he hasn't even finished 'grieving' yet." There was disgust in his voice. "He's got the worst taste in women; kinda like you. Sure, Dru and I had our games—"

Angel figured now he had to object. "I'm nothing like Spike."

The demon laughed. "Knew he was gonna be a problem from the beginning. Too much..." It wasn't going to say the “L” word. "Like a human. He never had a true _passion_ for the slaughter—except when he wanted her nice and creamy. I mean, the railroad spikes were my idea. I gave him his reputation, and all he gave me were plenty of reasons to tear out his throat."

"What...?"

It didn't make sense. Demons didn't feel anything. Certainly not the “L” word.

"Funny, you seemed smarter before the separation,” cracked Angelus. “We just don’t communicate anymore. But hey, I've got time for a lesson.

"Even though we make ourselves at home, how much we enjoy what we do—maiming, destruction, and, my personal favorite, torture—all comes down to who _they_ were. Let's use, oh, I dunno, Drusilla as an example.

“The model, Christian girl of her day. Obedient, devout...not one, sinful bone in that young, virgin body. Only, oops, she could see the future. Heathen whore." He rolled his eyes, spouting, "Humans...what a bunch of morons."

Then his mouth curved into a nasty smile. "What kind of man would I be if I didn't take her away from all that? And I just had to have that gift of hers for myself."

Angel's blood figuratively boiled at the memory.

"But to make her the best vampire she could be, I needed to loosen just a few more screws—plus, ya know, in the mood. Then she woke up, frisky as ever. Couldn't get enough of me. Kept yammering about her parents, though..."

"She hated you, too," Angel reminded.

"Yeah, her mind was full of surprises," he smirked. "Yours wasn't. You just didn't care. Spikey cared too much, but you...well, it was a real fun century and a half." His face shifted to vampiric form, and he licked his lips. "Can't wait to give this one a whirl."

Tears of blood ran down his cheeks.

* * *

  

"I think it should go left twice, right three times, and then finish with a V." Kelli demonstrated with her pom-poms.

Cordelia was co-captain of the squad this year, alongside Joy. They were having a night practice in the gym, and she'd been very let down by the lack of talent and creativity. Cheerleading did require skill, though some refused to believe that, and the girls who tried out had none. But Sunnydale High’s Razorbacks needed a cheering section.

Scanning the group, she saw the stares. Some disgusted, others indifferent, but generally, she was being looked down upon. A few of them were part of her once-flock, who now thought they were better than her—that was a laugh.

No, Larry hadn't been the first to bring up her “change.” In the beginning, it was uncomfortable. Presently? It was just annoying.

It was sad when she'd rather be werewolf hunting in the dark with her girlfriend and an old, English guy.

"What do you think?" Joy was asking her.

"We need a new routine, but the game's tomorrow, and..." Cordelia began as Kelli glared at her. She could hear muffled giggling. "That's it, I've had enough."

"Cordelia—"

"You've heard the rumors, right? Well, they're all true." She waited for the gasps to subside. "Buffy Summers and Cordelia Chase are a thing. We've kissed, we've dated a few times, and who knows? We might even have sex."

And the second wave came. "Eew."

"Ashley? Your mouth? Close it," ordered Cordelia. "I'm happy with my life. If you wanna pretend I don't exist anymore, you better not expect me to think it'll be a huge loss, ‘cause it won't be. I've got friends, _actual_ friends, so I could seriously care less."

All the leaders of cheer looked at each other—she had them there.

"I'm still a captain of this squad; I've earned it, so if I don't like something, tough. Deal. Out there you can ignore me all you want, but in here, I call the shots. Maybe I've grown a little," She had, by short leaps and small bounds, "but if you think you can mess with me and get away with it, think again...and yeah, that is a threat."

"What're you gonna do to us?" Kimberly timidly asked.

Cordelia was in control, and she loved it. "Relax, I'm not gonna molest you in the showers or check out your ass, because...ucch, but if I hear anybody saying anything about me and Buffy, and I mean _anything_ , I will shove my foot in it. You know you all owe her."

She paused a moment or two, seeing that they grasped the consequences. "Do what I say, and you'll be safe. But I'm not putting up with this, damn it—under-frickin’-stood?"

"Uh huh...” “Yeah...” “Totally..." came several voices.

"You finished?" Joy smirked.

The Queen nodded, pleased with her work. They feared her again.

* * *

 

 

"This is all so weird. I mean, how are we supposed to act when we see him?" Xander was asking Buffy as they walked into the lounge two days later.

Oz had turned out to be the werewolf, but thankfully, he hadn't hurt anyone. Willow shot him; it was no secret they had a lot to discuss. Buffy hoped for her friend's sake that they could work through it, because they seemed good together.

However, Xander wasn't talking about Oz. He was referring to Larry, who he’d interrogated about his dog bite. Things had been learned, and wrong impressions given.

"Well, it's gotta be weird for him, too. Now that we know so much," she replied.

"All I know is I'll never be able to look at him the same again."

"He's still a human being," she said in Oz’s defense. "Most of the time."

They stopped at the vending machine, and Xander realized they weren't quite on the same page. "Who are we talking about?"

"Oz—who are you talking about?"

"No one," he avoided.

His eyes found “Larry and Friends” by the stairs. One of them knocked some books from a girl's hands. While they laughed, Larry picked up the books and gave them back to her. Buffy watched this somewhat befuddling scene, staying calm as the ex-ass came over.

"Hey! Xander, look, about what you did...I-I owe you," Larry said sincerely.

"What'd you do?" she wondered.

"It's really nothing we should be talking about," Xander said to her, and then turned to Larry. "Ever."

"I know, I know. It's just, well," Larry smiled gratefully and pat him on the back, "thanks."

"That was weird," commented Buffy as he left, and she and Xander went to a table.

"What? It's not okay for one guy to like another guy just because he happened to be in the locker room with him when absolutely nothing happened...and I thought I told you not to push," he babbled, apparently having caught Willow's habit.

"All I meant is that he didn't try to look up my skirt."

Xander fidgeted with his hands, smiling. "Oh-oh, yeah, that's-that's the weirdness."

"Weirdness abounds lately—maybe it's the moon," she rationalized as Cordelia entered the lounge, pulled up a chair, and joined them. "Does stuff to people."

A “Hello” kiss was bestowed upon her.

"Like that?" Xander’s face went red.

"What's with the public display?" Buffy smiled at her girlfriend welcomingly. "Not that I'm minding."

"I'm the Queen, Buffy—they may not like it, but my subjects obey," Cordelia stated with a self-assured grin. "Oh, guess what? Larry apologized to me after second period. Which was already bizarre, but then he said he was gay and that he'd always be 'available to talk.' Do we have to make a secret pact or something? ‘Cause if we do..."

Buffy was feeling befuddlement again. "He's gay? Where'd that come from?"

"He's...? My god. Really? Man. You see a guy every day, and then—" Xander's ranting was cut short.

"He thinks you helped him," revealed the suspicious Cordelia.

Larry's gratitude made sense suddenly, and Buffy was smirking up a storm. "Something you wanna tell us, Xand?"

He sighed in defeat. "There were mixed signals, okay? But my dream, where there’s you, and you,” He pointed appropriately, “and much melty chocolate to go around, is what gets me goin' in the morning." He saw their appalled faces. "In a totally, _not_ sexual way."

While they attempted to banish his hormonal fantasy from their minds, the conversation stalled. Though the couple did sort of enjoy picturing the image, he wasn't going to get to know that. Besides, where would they get enough chocolate?

Upset, Cordelia searched for a distraction and quickly wished she hadn't—people were placing flowers by a locker.

* * *

  

"So a vampire killed Theresa? For sure?" she asked in a whisper, frowning.

"That's what bite marks on the neck usually mean," Buffy confirmed sadly. "The one who did it is still out there."

Cordelia had a strong urge to do some hugging, but she’d already risked Snyder’s wrath with the kiss. She saw how hard it was on Buffy, though. Every victim stuck in her head long after they died. Making this even worse, Buffy had saved Theresa from one beast only days ago, yet hadn’t been able to save her from another.

Cordelia settled for hand-holding. "Oz and Willow hafta be relieved, though."

"But think about it," Xander jumped in, happy that they weren't going to badger him. "I mean, what life could they possibly have together? We're talking obedience school, paper training, Oz is always in backyard burying their things...and that kind of breed can turn on its owner."

"I don't know," Buffy thoughtfully disagreed, "I kinda see Oz as the loyal type."

"All I'm saying is she's not safe with him. If it were up to me—"

"Xander...it's not up to you."

Cordelia stopped listening as soon as Xander had spoken, thinking about the more pressing vampire problem, and now had a suggestion.

"Get Angel to find it. The vampire. They all like, inbreed, so he oughta know..." She got an odd look from Buffy, and ended her jab right there. "I swear I don't feel threatened anymore."

Buffy smiled at that last part. "I could...maybe. Haven't seen him in a while; figured he needed some alone time."

"To cope with the fact that Cordy won?" Xander asked, grinning evilly. "Again, a decision applauded by me."

She paid him no heed. "But he should've warned me about something by now."

"He's a grown vampire; he can take care of himself." Her friend was unconcerned for his nemesis, which was no big revelation. "Damn it, Buf, you're a slayer, not a babysitter!"

Blank stares.

"One day I'll understand you," remarked Buffy, shaking her head.

"Not me," said Cordelia without hesitation. "Why should I waste brain cells just to sink down to your low, _low_ level?" she questioned rhetorically. "If you have any layers, and the chances aren't that great, I never wanna know what they are."

Xander's sarcasm came through in a pinch. "Ho, that was jam-packed with hilarity."

She issued a quiet challenge of, _'What, no comeback?'_

He gestured at the table's other, glaring occupant. "Ain't that brave."

They got on Buffy’s nerves. "If I avoided _your_ layers, we wouldn't be here."

"But he's—" Cordelia wanted to protest, but crumbled under a second, public display.

"Enough...play nice, you guys."

Cordelia did have a good idea though, because she couldn't let that vampire live.


	9. Eight

Spike heard his men enter the factory, trying for quiet. There were only four; he was losing people fast. He sat facing a wall in his wheelchair, biting back tears and turning weak emotion into rage.

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day—he'd be reminded of Drusilla often, just when he thought he could go on without her. They used to seek out happy couples taking romantic, nighttime strolls. The hunt had been a yearly tradition.

Drusilla had a childlike fascination with the silent communication couples in love shared. Blind to the world around them, they were always easy prey. She insisted that she could suck the love right from their hearts.

When she and Spike retired for the night, they’d pleasure each other almost until noon, so high from it all.

Now Drusilla was dead, those nights lost, several lifetimes of loneliness awaited—if the Slayer and his Grandsire didn't put a stake in him first. Spike sent vampires to kill Angel night after night, and fewer and fewer returned.

The ones who escaped said Angel was ruthless, brutal. Spike dusted them, angry and frustrated. He would've taken the matter into his own, usually capable hands, but he was stuck in a wheelchair.

His condition was the Slayer's doing. She came up with the plan and Angel executed it. They'd both die for Dru. That was a promise.

"How successful were we tonight?" he asked in an even tone, still staring at the wall.

"The guy got Tony," spoke his employee.

"Is that right?" Spike wheeled around. "Where's Lenny?"

"Lenny took off, man...said he quit."

"That was kinda rude, don't you think? I would've expected at least two weeks notice." He pushed himself onto his employee’s foot, who winced. Then he crooked his finger. "What's your name, mate?"

"R-rick."

"Yeah," He remembered now, "the 'Power-Walker Kill.' You do nice work."

"Th-thanks." Rick tried to maintain composure as his boss yanked him by the shirt.

"Why I'm not gonna hold tonight against you—Angel didn't make it two centuries by being an idiot. He was also camp as a row of tents, but I don’t judge,” smirked Spike. “I'm givin' you a new job; forget the poof. You can't destroy the instrument, you destroy the brains behind it.

"The Slayer—put the bleedin' bitch in the ground!" he growled, fuming. "This is an opportunity very few fellas get... _Rick_. The publicity alone should be motivatin' enough, ‘cause if you don't, you better hope she does you before I hear about it. Do we have an understanding?"

Rick nodded. "S-sure. You b-bet."

Spike rolled off, and Angelus left the scene from his vantage point outside. Buffy was his, and he didn't want his coming out party spoiled.  

* * *

 

 

The bell rang, signaling the end of American Literature for Buffy, Willow, and Xander the following morning. Valentine’s Day was upon the three friends, two of which had dates. Xander was slightly depressed about being the fifth wheel—Willow and Oz, Buffy and Cordelia, Xander and...The Air.

He got up from his seat as their teacher, Ms. Beakman, spoke. "Papers on my desk. Anybody tries to leave without giving me a paper is looking at a failing grade."

Assignment in hand and bag on his shoulder, he walked down the row behind his friends. "Ha, ha, ha—this time I'm ready for you. No 'F' for Xander today. No, this baby's my ticket to a sweet D-minus."

Willow saw their other friend, Amy Madison, and stopped beside her. "Hey, Amy."

"Hey," responded the girl, adjusting the strap on her backpack. "Are you guys going to the Valentine's Day dance at the Bronze? I think it's gonna be a lot of fun."

Willow turned to Buffy with a huge smile, and Buffy had to give amused permission. "Go ahead, you know you wanna say it."

When she faced Amy again, Willow was grinning. "My boyfriend's in the band!"

Amy laughed. "Cool."

"I think you've now told everybody," believed Buffy.

"Only in this hemisphere." Willow pulled on her backpack

"What about you?" Amy asked Buffy.

"Oh, Valentine's Day is just a cheap gimmick to sell cards and chocolate." Buffy came off sounding nonchalant, and then walked up to Ms. Beakman's desk to hand her paper in.

"Thank you," Ms. Beakman acknowledged.

Buffy headed out, followed soon by Willow, who gave her paper and received a “Thank You” as well. 

Xander was still behind Amy, watching as she and their teacher seemingly got into a staring contest. A few seconds passed, and then Ms. Beakman gestured like she was accepting a paper. She smiled, gave Amy an automatic, “Thank You” just like everyone else, and waited on him as if nothing happened.

He stood in shock for a moment then relinquished his paper, in a hurry to catch up with Buffy and Willow. 

* * *

 

 

They were making their way downstairs with Amy, and spotted Cordelia standing at the bottom.

"She ‘poo poo's,’ but she's spoiling her rotten," Willow whispered to Amy, attempting to glance discreetly at Buffy reuniting with her happy girlfriend.

Amy smiled at the pair when they reached the first floor, then went to the lounge. 

"I never said it was a _bad_ gimmick, I just said it was cheap," Buffy defended herself, smirking at her friend's, "How did you hear that?" look.

"And you better not be," interjected Cordelia, putting an arm around Buffy’s neck.

Buffy just smiled sweetly and knowingly. She looked away as Xander arrived, having finally reached them through the masses. Masses who sent the occasional glare her and Cordelia's way, but that was about it.

"Did you guys see that?" he questioned, pointing over at Amy.

"See what?" asked Buffy.

"In class—I think Amy just worked some magick on Ms. Beakman."

"You mean like witchcraft?"

"You know, her mom's a witch," Willow reminded.

"And an amateur psycho," Buffy added. "Amy's the last person that should be messing with that stuff."

"What'd you do to her mom, anyway?" Cordelia wondered.

"Heck if I know," shrugged Buffy. "She zapped herself, then presto, no more ‘Evil Mom.’"

"You won. End of creepy story," Willow summed up.

"Willow's right. ‘Cause you have other, more important things to focus on today," Cordelia told her girlfriend. "Me, for instance."

Half-listening to begin with, an idea had sprung to Xander's mind. "Maybe I should go talk to her." 

* * *

 

 

The happiness was too much for him to handle. He ran up to Amy without another word and pulled her aside, away from the crowd in the lounge.

"What are you doing?" she asked, somewhat mad.

"Amy—long time no see." He couldn't think of anything better to say.

"We just saw each other two minutes ago." 

"Yeah, well, that's...true," He took a quick look around, "and you're a witch."

She smiled nervously. "No, I'm not. That-that was my mom, remember?"

"I'm thinking it runs in the family. I saw you working that mojo on Ms. Beakman." He started to glance over his shoulder. "Maybe I should go tell somebody about—"

"That's not even..." She glared. "That is so mean!"

Xander returned the favor. "'Blackmail' is such an ugly word."

"I didn't say 'blackmail.'" Amy was confused.

"Yeah, but I'm about to blackmail you, so I thought I'd bring it up."

"What do you want?" She crossed her arms, defeated, and not hating him enough to turn him into something.

"What do I want?" He rubbed his hands together. "Of all the questions, you had to pick that one—ha. Sorry, Amy, big mistake. Because now? So much power, so many options. What to choose, what to choose..." His confident expression faded, becoming suddenly shy. "Go out with me?"

* * *

 

At the Bronze that night, _Dingoes Ate My Baby_ played onstage, and Willow sat at a table with Xander and Amy, swooning. She didn't understand why the two were there together, but she was too engrossed in her guitarist boyfriend to care. She moved her head to the beat, a big smile plastered on her face.

"Oz has his cool hair today," she announced proudly. "I think I'm a groupie!"

Xander looked at his date. "You can go mingle, ya know. You've suffered, and I thank you."

"I didn't have to come at all, Xander—I could've just removed your tongue or given you never-ending athlete's foot," Amy told him truthfully.

He gulped. "I've gotta do more prep work before I threaten."

"I'm glad you didn't."

This was a trap, but he ventured forth anyway. "Uh...why?"

"Am I still here?" she smiled, and he slowly smiled back.

* * *

  

A short distance away, Buffy and Cordelia stood behind a couch, drinking cups of soda. They'd danced during the last song, but decided to sit this one out. Cordelia rolled her eyes at Willow's enthusiasm.

Though she was very interested in Xander and Amy. It made her wonder where he got the guts to face possible rejection. She always thought if he asked a girl out his head would explode, and she kind of wanted to see if Amy would do it.

"They've got potential." Buffy was observing the same thing.

"I've seen worse," admitted Cordelia. "They might last...well, if he keeps her away from black cats." She slowly broke out into a grin. "Oops, that was _just_ her mother."

The sarcastic tone not lost on Buffy, she gave Cordelia a light thwap on the arm. Then she checked her watch, and her eyes almost left her head.

Snatching Cordelia's drink right from her hand, she found the trash and dumped both their cups. Before Cordelia could figure out what was going on, Buffy reappeared and began pulling her toward the door.

"Girl wearing heels here! I told you, you should've stuck to Diet," admonished Cordelia, having almost tripped.

"Sorry, but you'll thank me later. I’m hoping."

As they were going, Cordelia saw a glaring Harmony. In response, she showed off a certain finger. Her ex-friend then hurriedly summoned her entourage into the bathroom to complain, unaware of the vampire they’d just brushed past.

Angelus watched his competition follow Buffy and Cordelia outside, leaving from the back to alert others. He stealthily trailed behind. 

* * *

  

A block from her house, Buffy stopped walking. Every muscle in her body tensed. She'd felt something in the Bronze but ignored it, too distracted by what non-supernatural things could go wrong tonight.

It figured that since she was finally in a relationship, something would want to interrupt the first important date on a couple’s calendar. She didn't have time for some newborn wanting to make a name for himself. Really, she didn't.

Cordelia knew what that look meant, and she also knew she should've brought her car. Walking might've been romantic, but driving equaled vampire protection. Her girlfriend wordlessly motioned her to stay close.

Buffy turned quickly, delivering a kick to the vampire that had come up behind them. Foot hit stomach, and her victim hunched over.

As he straightened, Buffy grimaced. "Angel?"

"Haven’t you ever heard of 'Hello'?" Cordelia asked him. "Unless you _like_ having your insides rearranged..."

"Not really." Angel's arm was in front of his stomach protectively.

"Hey, it’s your choice."

"What're you doing here?" asked Buffy warily.

Something still didn't feel right. Was his face...different? Harder or...and that didn't matter, because three vampires appeared out of the shadows, circling them.

She got into a fighting stance. Good thing she hadn't chosen a dress tonight. Getting a stake out of her pants pocket, she stood back-to-back with Angel, keeping Cordelia close.

"I followed them from Willy's to the Bronze," he explained. "They've been watching you."

"I need to get you in the house; we can make a break for it if Angel holds them off,” Buffy spoke to her girlfriend, surveying the situation. "I'm not taking any chances. Once you're inside, I'll—"

Cordelia wanted to interrupt, but—

" _No_. No one's gonna spoil tonight for me."

From the second they'd been discovered, Angel had been battling his demon for control—he’d allowed it to feed on too many people already. Fighting back was becoming increasingly more difficult, but it wasn't going to get them. Using all he had, Angel pushed it down, ignoring the inner growl of protest.

"Help me," he said with a touch of desperation. "Help me split them up, then run."

"Are you sure you can handle this?” Buffy asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he cryptically answered.

With that, Buffy round-housed the one in front of her and Cordelia, while he took the one on the left. Seeing the hole, they booked it for the house. But not before she tossed him her stake.

As the girls distanced themselves from the scene, Angelus broke free, showing his anger through vampiric eyes. "You always get in my way."

"Get used it, you're stuck with me."

"For now."

The two, fallen attackers were standing again, joining the third—it was Angelus they wanted. William the Bloody was a cripple. His orders didn't mean a damn thing.

Unfortunately for them however, demon and man had just decided, at least for the time being, to cooperate with one another.

* * *

  

Amy still sat with Xander back at the Bronze. "Where'd Buffy and Cordelia go?"

"Buffy had this whole romantical dinner planned out. Cordy didn't know," he revealed. "I would've done something like that too, but..."

This was kind of new.

"There's always next year," she grinned, standing up.

He was starting to sweat. "And here comes the pressure."

Next year? He'd be lucky if she could still stand him next week.

"There isn't...really," she assured him. "Dance?"

Cracking his knuckles, they walked out onto the floor where Willow and Oz were already—the band was between sets, so a DJ was in charge.

"If ‘toe crunching’ happens, don't panic; got the hospital bill covered. Do they, um, accept _Monopoly_ money?"

After some awkwardness, they settled in nicely to the slow-paced song. His arms around Amy's neck, and hers around his waist, Xander found his best friend in the crowd—the two shared a smile. Willow wasn't the only one who'd had a crush.

* * *

  

Safely in the Summers' home, Cordelia removed her no longer salvageable shoes. Placing them by the door, she walked barefoot into the living room. Buffy had switched on a lamp, and was looking out the window.

Cordelia noticed the Jeep hadn’t been in the driveway. "Your mom go out?"

"Yeah, she met this guy, came into the gallery...they went, uh, somewhere..." Buffy was still distracted by the view outside.

"So it _is_ a guy? Not a robot with a human facelift?"

"Willow checked. Medical records, police record...he's got all organs and one speeding ticket. From when he was twenty-two, but I still made Mom promise to drive." Buffy debated with herself, then. "Should I...?"

Cordelia shook her head. "He wants to be macho? Let him. Besides, he was stalking you."

"What?" Buffy turned to her, alarmed.

"When doesn't he? It’s all he has to look forward to. Not like he has friends...or a hobby that isn't gross," came Cordelia’s jibe. 

Buffy frowned. "It's just...when I asked him about Theresa a couple weeks ago—"

"—his place looked like a tornado blew through it," Cordelia finished. "You told me."

"Because Spike's guys were trying to get payback for Drusilla," Buffy elaborated. "Now they're after me because they couldn't take Angel out."

"Then it's a good thing you're here, and they're getting their asses kicked. Somewhere that’s else," said Cordelia, giving her honest opinion. "I know I'm happy about it."

"But he shouldn't have to protect—"

"Buffy? Shut up."

Cordelia kissed her girlfriend, technique rapidly becoming more advanced. “Advanced” in this case meaning “French.” Winding down with some light roaming, they broke contact to enjoy oxygen.

"Making out on a couch," Cordelia managed to sigh, "how cliché can you get?"

"You started it." Buffy wasn't ready to stop, either.

She nipped along Cordelia's neck, and worked her way back up to mouth before a finger tapped her on the shoulder.

"Why's there a giant, white bear on the chair?" Cordelia wondered.

Buffy giggled. "Please tell me you read Dr. Seuss as a kid."

" _Green Eggs and Ham_? Ick." Cordelia made a face to go along with her disapproval. "Seriously, there's a bear holding a box of...are they chocolates?"

"Valentine’s Day, chocolates...heard they go together or something." Buffy started to grin, but her expression became uncertain. "Uh...oh. That's cliché, isn't it?"

"Clichés? Who cares about clichés? I don't even know what they are," Cordelia said excitedly.

The grin resurfaced on Buffy’s face. "And since I'm the only one who knows about the 'Cordelia Chase Secret Teddy Bear Collection'..."

"He's my bear?"

"Needs a good home. With his own species—pigs aren't his thing." Buffy followed her over to the chair. "So bond while I get dinner ready."

"You're cooking?"

"M’ gonna try to." Buffy sat her chin on Cordelia's shoulder from behind. "If I fail miserably, you'll still love me for attempting...won't you?"

"Don't be stupid—of course I will," smiled Cordelia. "Just less."

* * *

  

Back outside, Angelus considered returning to the Bronze. Maybe to kill an unsuspecting Scooby. Spike’s men hadn't died easy. Sure, it made impaling them all the more satisfying, but he was left thirsty.

He'd have to head in the direction of the club to get home. Draining one of Buffy's friends would usually be a breeze, except the area would be crowded. Love was in the air—and several people were screwing their brains out in the alleyways. No dark corner would be quiet enough.

The kill had to be private; he couldn’t risk being seen too soon. Couldn’t lose the element of surprise. He wanted to send the pieces with a nice card.

Walking past the high school, he spotted a woman in the parking lot, phone in hand, heading to her car. A teacher working late? Didn't they know better?

Oh, perfect. He didn't just recognize her face; he recognized her scent. She was the way to announce everything. And maybe more importantly, she was revenge.


	10. Nine

Willow, Amy, and Xander were onstage as Oz and the band packed their gear. After two sets, all the songs began sounding the same. The two couples were calling it a night—party animals they weren't. Thankfully, Oz had his van so they could ride in relative safety.

Xander had enjoyed himself more than he'd expected. The main motive behind asking Amy out had been to not look like a loser standing alone in a corner. Only he was finding out he liked her.

And she seemed to like him...a lot. No, he wouldn't object to seeing her outside school for a second time, even a third. Assuming she'd agree to a...what was that word? Date? It sounded so foreign.

Drums were currently being carried off, and he couldn't help but eye the base drum with a raised brow. Gone was the band logo. Replacing it was a phrase that, while understanding its meaning, struck him as funny.

“Happy VD” was written along the top and bottom, with a heart in the middle. In the spirit of things, true, but also open to his unique brand of interpretation.

"'Happy Venereal Disease'?" he smirked. "Actually, if ya think about it, it's sorta gutsy. It's you guys saying, 'We know how your night's gonna end, and we celebrate it. We're a progressive, non-shunning, groove machine—go crabs!'"

The girls cringed.

"Room was an issue," said Oz.

"Gotcha...Devon never learned how to stay between the lines," interpreted Xander, and the singer shot him a look. "Love those vocals! Almost understood every other verse!"

"If there was ever a cue..." Amy quipped.

She and Willow pulled him outside, each holding onto an arm. He got the impression that this didn't swing the odds of there being another date in his favor.

* * *

 

"No, really—where'd you get it?" Cordelia asked about her new bear, walking into the kitchen and recognizing the aroma.

"It's a present." Buffy turned, gripping the wooden spoon she was using to stir the mixture of sauce, garlic, basil, olive oil, white wine, and clams. "You don't ask that about a present...and why are you wearing my sweatpants? And my sweater?"

"Uh, ‘cause they're comfortable? All right, so they're small on me; but anything’s better than that damn dress." Cordelia was angry. "It ripped! I knew it wasn't worth the retail."

Buffy smiled. "Aw. Could you look any cuter? You're all snug and homey."

"Whoa. Are you calling me your 'little woman?' Because, if we’re going there, you’re _mine_. Face it, the apron, the cookbook...just need a potholder to fully accessorize."

Buffy's eyes were mad, her lips pursed. "I was gonna let you taste, but now you'll just have to wait."

Cordelia’s eyes rolled. "Fine."

"And don’t you see the candles? ‘Cause candles automatically spell ‘romantic,’ and there’s a whole mood that happens, and sweats aren't moody." Buffy realized how that sounded. "Nnh...words hate me."

"So it'll be casually romantic," her girlfriend shrugged. "Besides, you said I looked cute."

"' _Could_ you look any cuter'; I said ' _could_.' Technically. Hey, you almost made it," Buffy grinned, and someone’s hands went on hips in disbelief. "Plus, 'little woman'? You hafta do what I say, and let me spend."

Cordelia played “offended” and “shell-shocked” well. "No way am I the guy in this relationship. When I exfoliate, I’ve got X chromosomes falling outta my pores! And thank god people didn’t have time for good hair in the Seventies, because they’re why I’ve also got totally equal rights! Nobody bosses me around but me.

Beat. “I meant physically little."

"You can't choose new definitions every five seconds! It means 'wife.’ You know it, I know it, and the eighty-year-olds who think it's still today's slang, know." Buffy punctuated each point with a spoon flick.

"Whatever," Cordelia breathed dismissively. "Isn’t my fault you were born shelf-challenged. When did we get married, anyway?"

Buffy looked determined, holding out the spoon. "Changed my mind...taste."

"What if I don't wanna?"

"Taste, Cor."

What did Cordelia do? Stepped up to the wooden object, giving it one, long, sensual lick—Buffy wanted to be in charge? Right, that'd happen.

Buffy’s throat was feeling dry. "W...Well?"

"Mm..." That was the most perfect reaction Cordelia could’ve had, and she was kissed instantly.

They both tasted the seasoned, clam-filled sauce, which added a new level to their making out. Then hysterical laughter began coming from Buffy, just as the buzzer went off for the Chicken Parmesan. That entire “argument” had just been so ridiculous.

But the intrusive buzzer cut through Buffy's laughter, and she fell abruptly back into her task. "Ahh! Go sit! I'll be done in a few. Stay like that—what do I care?"

Cordelia smiled slowly. "I love it when I get my way."

* * *

  

"He's coming," Jenny Calendar told her uncle, Enyos, as she paced in his apartment.

The man had recently moved to Sunnydale to keep a closer eye on things—the clan didn't trust her to stay impartial. They were both Romani. Gypses. And their people had a very old grudge against a certain, cursed vampire.

He was sitting in his chair. "I suppose you were looking forward to an evening with this man." He referred to Giles.

That had been the original plan. Jenny realized how distant she'd been acting, and tonight was supposed to make up for it. In other words, she was all set to send the tweed flying right off of him.

Yet her duty to her people took precedence.

"Angelus is my first priority," she assured her uncle.

He nodded in approval. "Can your gentleman be trusted with the knowledge of our cause?"

"Absolutely."

She’d called Giles as she left the school, and just hoped that he didn't hate her after their story. How do you tell the man you love you’ve been lying to him? That your gypsy clan had vengefully cursed Angel with a soul, and that it was your job to ensure he never experienced a moment of true happiness, which would return him to his evil ways?

Or so they’d wrongly believed.

"Understand, Janna, that I do realize your life has been saved by this creature. However, its soul no longer dominates the flesh it inhabits," Enyos explained to her. "The monster that slaughtered our beloved daughter has broken free, and is winning the inner struggle. Soon, the humanity will be completely destroyed—steps must be taken."

"Why did this happen? That's what I don't understand. His habits haven't changed. Nothing changed," she insisted.

"I do not know. But 'why' is unimportant; the solution is our focus. The Elder Woman has written a new incantation. It is stronger, permanent." He wasn't enthusiastic about that.

Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Permanent?"

"Yes—if it is successful, he will not have to fear the loss of his soul. Some have argued that with an eternity to live, it is possible he could find contentment, and that his suffering would end. If his pain would not last, many say he should die...yet she will not hear the protests," Enyos sighed. "The Elder Woman may have softened with age, but we still need to respect her wishes. It has always been that way, and so it shall continue."

"So why doesn't she just perform the spell now? Why wait?"

"Because she is weak, and the strength to perform such magick has left her. The distance is much too great," he further detailed. "Her parchment will soon arrive—the task falls upon your shoulders, child. She has felt great power around you."

"Me? I don't have that kind of strength, Uncle."

There was a knock at the door and he said, "Then perhaps he does." 

* * *

 

 

The small shriek came out before she could stop it. Rupert was here, unconscious on the other side of the door, Angelus gripping him by the throat.

She paled. Angelus knew her scent, what she was.

"Hiya, Jenny. Guess who I ran into on the way up?"

Her uncle joined her, speaking sternly. "You are not welcome here. Be gone."

"Hmm. Good point." Angelus shook his head. "Gosh, I should've thought this through. I mean, you probably don't care about my buddy Giles," He looked down at the watcher, "and forget how she feels about the guy, right?"

"Her affairs are of no concern to me."

Jenny hated her relative at that moment. Life was expendable—so long as that life didn't contain Kalderash blood.

"Wow, _that's_ dedication. Not giving me much to work with here; and I came all this way, too. Hate to waste the whole trip, but, damn, what choice do I have?

“Oh..." Angelus’ embarrassment quickly turned into a dark confidence. "Now I remember."

In his other hand, he held a knife that was thrown within an instant. The sharpened end now protruded from the other side of Enyos' neck. Blood escaped down his bottom lip as the Romanian fell to the floor, his nearly dead eyes wide with shock.

Jenny covered her mouth. When Angelus looked at her again, it was with his true face. He ran his fingers along the weakening barrier that prevented his entry into the apartment.

"I'd say you've got about two seconds, Teacher, then you and Rupert can be together. Nobody should be alone today...it's just not right."

* * *

 

 

Xander hopped out of the passenger seat of the van, and slid open the side door. Once Amy said her goodbyes, she headed for her home’s porch. Willow pushed him to walk his date up, feeling a small pang of jealousy. But no, she had Oz now.

On the porch, two people stood awkwardly. "Thanks for blackmailing me. It was...fun," Amy smirked.

"Thanks for not running away." He was very much grateful. "Which means you found my antics wily and/or amusing, or you're just looking forward to a mock-tastic tomorrow."

She laughed. "I haven't decided yet, I'll let ya know."

"Appreciate that," he smiled genuinely. "Hey, if your vote happens to swing toward 'Think I like that guy,’ would you, uh...wanna give this ‘going out’ idea a second try? Reels could be involved next time. And not just any old reels—ones with pictures on ‘em...that move. I’ve heard good things."

"It's not the most original offer ever...but I can't see why I'd say no,” she shrugged. “Maybe I'm drawn to you."

"Drawn? To me? That's great!" He cleared his throat. "I'm masculine—yeah." She was still smirking at him. "I better get outta here before you realize you’re not-so-much sane."

"With compliments like that, it's hard to believe girls aren't falling all over you."

"Oh, they fall," Xander corrected her. "They fall so hard there's usually slings and restraining orders real fast after."

She kissed him on the cheek. "G'night, Xander."

It had been a good, Venerea...Valentine’s Day, after all.

* * *

 

Jenny scrambled for the fire escape trying to ignore her newly broken leg, but it wasn't working. If she lived through this with only that and bruises, she wouldn't complain. Some of the floor's other residents must have gotten nosy; she could hear and see the sirens getting closer.

Thank god for people who didn't mind their own business. Angelus would be removing bullets from his body for a month if he had to face cops. She and Rupert just needed to hold on a little longer.

Giles came to several minutes ago, finding himself lying next to a dead man. Jenny had given him directions to her uncle's building, and the last thing he remembered was leaving his car. Seeing the vampire’s actions, all questions left his mind.

Pure hatred compelled him to his feet, and he sucker-punched Angelus.

Who barely felt anything. "C’mon, was that really necessary? I don't want _you_. It woulda been less painful if you'd only stayed down, but..."

Angelus delivered a direct uppercut to Giles’ chin—the watcher went reeling. "If this is how you want it, more than happy to oblige."

"Angel, help us!" Jenny pleaded, hoping to reach him.

Bad word.  She was growled at, and then Angelus went to yank the knife from her uncle’s body.

"Ssh...don't wake him up. He’s earned enough merit badges tonight, and he's kinda tired." Angelus brought a finger to his lips. After a moment, he slid it down the blade, gathering blood before tasting it with a grimace. "Think it’s gone stale. Personally? I prefer the younger generations. Like your ancestor—talk about sweet."

He grabbed her with the same hand in which he grasped the knife, pulled her to her boyfriend, and lifted Giles’ head. "Still there, Rupert? Wouldn't want you to miss the show."

Giles groaned in response.

"You've gotta help me choose. Do I drink first, or...?" Angelus posed, and Giles spat blood at him that he just licked off his lips. "You're right, you should watch me carve her."

Jenny looked at their torturer, tears in her eyes as the knife moved in a circle on her shirt. "They'll be here any minute."

"All I need. I’ll make it feel like an eternity."

But then anger flashed across his features as they turned human.

Angel's eyes were as frightened as hers. "Oh god..."

He shoved her aside and hurried out the window. Jumping off the fire escape, he fell hard to his hands and knees in the alley. They both knew things were going to get complicated now.

And unbeknownst to anyone, in a factory across town, Spike rose from his wheelchair, becoming one of those complications.

* * *

 

"What's the verdict?" Buffy asked hesitantly.

Cordelia was taking her last bite, impressed. Her girlfriend obviously wanted to make the night special, and as far as she was concerned, it had been. Slowly chewing, she still wanted to torture Buffy for a few seconds, though.

Eventually she put her fork down and wiped her mouth on a napkin.

"Did I like it, you mean?" she asked in return, sighing with false disgust. "Well...it stayed down, so, passed that test...and the box of wine? Nice touch."

Buffy chucked her napkin at Cordelia. "It was the only thing in the house; when my mom finds out, I'm dead." She shook her head. "Why’d I risk the rest of my adolescence for you? Explain ‘cause, no clue."

"Maybe you love me," smiled Cordelia from the other side of the table.

"Ooh, good clue."

"Maybe I'm basically like, a goddess that you need to keep happy so you don't have to face my wrath." Cordelia considered this. "And as long as we're on the subject? The next step? A shrine devoted to me. Or, pictures of me, at least. Except, too big, and we enter Psychoville. Simple, but still classy—is that really asking too much?"

Buffy eyed her, seeing through the act. "Stop being so good at that."

Cordelia grinned, caught. "Can’t. It’s what I do." Her grin became a smile. "This was great, Buffy. Way to make me feel guilty."

"What? Why d'you...?" Buffy looked up toward the ceiling then, remembering something crucial. "Uh...close your eyes and halt the guilt-trip for a sec? Be right back."

She made a beeline for her room, and came back holding a long, thin jewelry box. "They closed?"

"I can't see anything, so I'm going with duh," answered Cordelia sarcastically.

Buffy opened the box, removed its contents, and then sat it on the table.

Going behind her girlfriend’s chair, she gently brushed hair aside to slip on the necklace she'd bought. "’Kay, open."

* * *

  

The gold chain had three objects on it—a **B** , a **C** , and a heart locket slightly larger than the surrounding letters. Inside the heart was a picture Willow had taken several weeks ago, during her first day snapping candids for the yearbook. Willow wanted to branch out into other areas of Nerd-dom (especially because Eric, the young, Dr. Frankenstein who usually took the photos, had been expelled).

Anyhow, the couple had been caught off guard. By the time the flash went off, it was too late to object. Cordelia's head had been turned toward Buffy's, and they were just talking, smiling.

Buffy chose that picture because, one, they hadn't really built up a large collection yet; two, there was something unguarded and natural about it; and three, it captured the foundation their relationship was built upon.

Conversation, openness. They talked constantly, even before they were official. So it felt like the most appropriate picture.

"You shouldn't...I mean, this is..." Cordelia whispered, looking for words and lifting her gift to get a better look. "Thank you."

Buffy smiled. "Welcome."

* * *

 

Then the doorbell rang—surely Jehovah's Witnesses had to sleep?

Cordelia blushed as Buffy reappeared a minute later, carrying a dozen, red roses. "I didn't think I'd be here; you were supposed to be getting back from patrol now."

"I told you, you didn't have to do anything,” said Buffy. “I just got a girlfriend _and_ a bracelet for my birthday...I was set for at least six months."

"It's Valentine's Day," shrugged Cordelia. "If I'd known you were gonna get me chocolates, Sir Sno-Paw, _and_ make me dinner..." She sighed. "I have all this money, but when I can finally spend it on someone _else_ and have it actually matter..."

"Cor, it's not about—"

"Says the girl who splurged."

"You think this was me splurging? I just wanted t’give you a tiny surprise. There were twenty other things I didn’t get and," Buffy frowned, "now I feel guilty."

"Don't...geez."

"If I can't, you can't." Buffy got a nod of acceptance. "Just because my girlfriend’s insanely rich, doesn’t mean I need spoiling. Gifts’re great ‘n’ all, but—'Sappy Slayer Alert'—already have the best one."

"But you like the roses?" Cordelia checked.

"They're beautiful." Buffy smelled them as her girlfriend got up. "'Sir Sno-Paw'?"

“So?” Cordelia retorted defensively.

“So...I love you?”

Cordelia walked over to Buffy and hugged her tight. "Thanks—I mean it." She kissed her lightly when they separated. "And I guess I love you too."

No one had ever done anything like this for her before.

"I oughta probably put these in water," realized Buffy with a smile.

"What if your mom asks where they came from?"

Buffy grinned. "No card, no idea."

"Do I look like _Hallmark_?" Cordelia asked rhetorically. 

* * *

 

 

She went and stretched out on the living room couch while Buffy cleaned up. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and flipped through channels for several, long minutes. Several long, lonely minutes.

"There's crap on TV."

"Good crap or bad?" Buffy asked, coming to join her and managing to fit just right, allowing them both to lie down.

Cordelia began tracing her nails in slow circles around Buffy's ear. "There's no such thing as good crap. It's an oxymoron. Remember English that day? Oh, wait, you weren’t there."

"I remember!"

Cordelia smirked. "Uh huh.” Then she lightly accused, coughing, “Chronically Absent Delinquent."

"School Spirit Slut." Buffy had been prepared.

As they watched the commercials, one caught Buffy's eye. "Whoever came up with 'mammogram,' anyway? Every time I hear it, I think I'm supposed to put my breast in an envelope and mail it to someone."

Better question: why did being a teenager mean being turned on by everything? Here Cordelia was, listening to a non-suggestive joke and doing some innocent, non-suggestive cuddling...with her mouth right next to the back of Buffy’s neck. Maintaining composure was a chore.

"Then you’re lucky you haven’t been that dumb. Because it belongs to me. They both do so, quit thinking about it," she finally responded.

While Buffy chuckled, Cordelia bit her lip, consumed with hormonal thoughts. Thoughts derailed by ringing. Buffy was able to answer the phone without sacrificing position.

"Hello? ... This is her ... What happened?" She sat up, face turning pale. "I know ... Yes ... Sunnydale General? ... No, I'll be there." She hung up, eyes fearful.

Cordelia was sitting up with her now. "What?"

"Giles and Miss Calendar...they were hurt or...I dunno. I was a contact person, I have to—" Buffy was on the edge of freaking out.

"I'll run home and get my car," Cordelia told her. "Call Willow and Xander—we'll pick them up then go to the hospital."

"Um..."

“Shut up, I’ll be fine. Just give me some holywater, and leave a note for your mom," ordered Cordelia, taking charge.

Her confidence in herself was apparently justified, because a short time later they were on their way, vowing from then on to drive everywhere.


	11. Ten

"I can't believe this." Buffy breathed, calming herself. "You could've told us."

"I didn't know until—"

"About who you were. Are."

Jenny’s left leg was in a cast, her lower lip stitched, and there was bruising on her face and wrists, as well as on areas not easily seen. But she wasn’t worried about herself. She was worried about Giles.

He wasn't supposed to get caught up in this. They'd immediately rushed him into surgery, and it had been nearly six hours since the two of them were admitted. The doctors weren't saying anything.

Learning she had visitors, she knew she had to tell Buffy the whole story. Alone. With his secret exposed, Angelus would step up his plans; they needed to get ready. Buffy’s reaction had been...contained, but the girl wanted answers. There weren't many to give.

"I know...and it's a mistake I wanna take back. I'm sorry, Buffy, I really am, but I was taught to put my people ahead of everything—they were fools." Jenny closed her eyes, pushing back the pain. "I guess that makes me a fool, too."  

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "So you care about people that used you, and act like they were the only ones hurt by Angel...a hundred years ago. I'm trying to understand, here."

"No, not anymore."

"What about Giles?" asked Buffy, and Jenny’s eyes gave her feelings away. "Good. ’Cause he cares a lot about you."

"I think I blew my chance," Jenny sighed. "How is he? Do you know?"

"The doctor said there was some internal bleeding..." Buffy’s forehead creased. "I only really heard the 'He'll heal,' part.” Arms dropping to her sides, her expression softened. “How're you doing?" 

"I won't ever badmouth drugs again." Jenny heard a chuckle in response. "My uncle said they were going to send me a spell before..." She swallowed, his death fresh in her mind. "It'll save Angel."

"We just gotta find someone to do it in time, right? You're sure he's still...?"

"If he wasn't, I wouldn't be alive right now," said Jenny seriously. "Neither would Rupert. Angel isn't doing this, Angelus is."

"But you have no idea why they're, doing the 'split personality' thing?"

Jenny shook her head on the pillow as the gang came in.

"Can we...is it okay?" Willow gently asked.

"Sure, Willow." Jenny smiled at them.

"Hi, Miss Calendar," Cordelia greeted her, grabbing Buffy's hand. "Oh...ugh."

"I see your 'ugh' and raise you a 'whoa.'" Xander looked away, realizing how not tactful that sounded. "Sorry."

"God, who-who did that?" Willow questioned, horrified.

Buffy gave Jenny a, “They're gonna find out, anyway” look, but still, she hesitated.

"They're moving Giles to a room," said Xander. "We'll keep her company if you wanna go see him."

Buffy nodded. "I'll let him know you're all right."

"Tell him," Jenny wanted to be able to move, "tell him I wish I could get up and come with you."

"Bet he's thinking the same thing," smiled Buffy reassuringly. "And you’re alive, so there’s gonna be more chances—just get better." She looked at her friends. "Make sure she keeps comfy, guys."

"She will," stated Willow firmly.

Cordelia wordlessly followed her exiting girlfriend, not releasing her grip. Sensing a new level of stress, she figured she should remain close. Stress and Buffy wasn't good.

* * *

 

A few days later, Cordelia walked slowly across the school parking lot toward her car. A very ill-looking Buffy was barely managing to keep up. Everyone knew she’d been pushing herself too hard.

Buffy had reached exhaustion after the second day, but they were all afraid to say anything. Angelus made it worse. He moved out of the apartment. No one knew where he was, and they were anxious about his next move.

Opening the passenger door, Cordelia watched as Buffy wearily climbed in, a hand on her forehead. Then she spotted Snyder, and ducked. He'd been trying to corner them—their "open displays of affection" were inappropriate in his school.

He was probably desperate for a video.

"Don't patrol tonight," said Cordelia. "You're sick."

"I have to...and I don't get sick." No sooner had the words come out of Buffy's mouth that she sneezed. "First time for everything."

Cordelia wasn't budging. "You should get your mom to make you soup or something; at least you have a parent that lets you milk illness."

Buffy smiled a little. "Would you make me soup if...? Nah. You wouldn't wanna have this."

"I'll risk it if it keeps you inside—where you can't get killed." Cordelia hated saying it even more than she did thinking it. "It's going around, probably catch it anyway."

Her eyes widened, filled with an idea. "Hey, maybe I can mooch off your mom, too. It's not like Marta's an option. There's all these things she swears against, but she’s still paid better than our lawyer."

“Nurse-maiding isn’t exactly the same thing as regular maiding," argued Buffy.

"Wouldn’t put my life in her hands even if it was."

Buffy knew the forceful look behind the humor. "It won't be a long one, okay?"

"You can barely stand!" Cordelia exploded, not used to people arguing with her. "All week you've either been going out looking for Angel, or playing 'Stakeout' at the hospital waiting for him to show. Then you just sit in class and stress over what he got away with. Do you even sleep? Am I in there somewhere?"

"Yes. Constantly in. That's why I'm..." Buffy's words dropped off. "I don't want him coming after you. And Giles and Miss Calendar are getting out tomorrow—"

"So I won't go out at night; I can adjust," Cordelia sighed. "If you find Angel...then what? What're you gonna do, Buffy? Cough on him?"

"What choice do I have, Cor?"

"Wait ‘til you can breathe. It's great that you wanna save people's lives, especially my life, but you can’t like this, and _someplace_ past the thickness you call a head,” Cordelia kissed the fore, “you know I’m right."

"It really gets to you, huh?" The dizzy slayer was slowly starting to understand.

"The idea of you dying? Yes!" Cordelia was ready to rank her girlfriend's question up there amongst the stupidest. "And since I don't trust you to rise above your 'Super-Girl' complex, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Maybe it was because she was delirious, but Buffy thought that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her.

* * *

  

Spike's legs hung over the side of a mausoleum while he puffed on a cigarette; he'd been sitting there for the last twenty minutes. Being able to move freely again had its advantages. He was back in the loop on everything from Angel's unpredictable behavior, to the new twist in the Slayer's love life.

No middlemen or lackeys for him anymore—the “Big Bad” worked alone.

He'd used his brief period of disability not only to grieve, but to make a clean break from Drusilla. Not that he wouldn’t have his revenge. But after that, he and this damn town were through.

Love? Who needed it? Certainly not big bad him. Time they all knew that.

Hearing the crunch of footsteps, he nonchalantly blew out a final cloud of smoke, and flicked the cigarette to the grass. Someone’s shoe crunched down on the faintly glowing butt, and it wasn’t his.

"Heard somebody's been unstable lately,” he spoke. “What's the matter, Angelus? Soul got you down?"

Angelus looked up when he heard Spike’s voice. "It's a phase, Spike, and it's almost over."

Spike commented, "Has to be bloody crowded in there, I’d wager."

"Like I said—"

"Yeah...phase, right," sneered Spike. "Don't get repetitive on me, Granddad—you'll start showing your age."

"What're you doing here?"

"Just takin’ in the night air, is all," Spike smirked. "Not literally. So...hiding from the Slayer yet?"

"Hiding?" Angelus asked with a touch of annoyance.

"Wouldn't blame you—be the first to admit she's got the stuff, and word is, she's on full alert."

"I happen to be recruiting, so—"

"Ah, that's the game, is it? Waitin' for one of your boys to rise. Smart. You always did know when you were over your head. I mean, you've never needed reserves before, but, always been one for strategy, haven’t you?" Spike complimented thinly. "Are you rushin' off to smother the watcher with his pillow, or to tear apart the bint you got tossed aside for? No—why be rash, you say? Not because you're scared, but because you've got brains...and that's why you won't ever stop teachin' the rest of us."

"I'm a giver."

Spike hopped off the mausoleum to stand in front of his grand-sire. "Shouldn’t mind tellin’ me if it was you or the Lapdog, then. That did Dru in. Because you're such a generous guy."

Angelus was wary. "He did."

"Thanks." Spike’s knuckles then connected with Angel/Angelus' face. "Doesn't make a sodding bit of difference, but honesty’s a rare thing."

* * *

  

Buffy had to admit that Cordelia had a good idea. After spending the whole day in the house because her mother forced her to (if she didn't know better, she would've thought there was some conspiring going on), her girlfriend had come to get her outside in the fresh air. Because she was told she smelled.

But the night before, Cordelia stuck to what she’d said. She kept Buffy at her house until Joyce finished at the gallery, and then took her home to be monitored by watchful, motherly eyes. Yeah, there was definitely conspiring going on.

Presently, it was late afternoon, and they’d just about absorbed all the fresh air Wetherby Park had to offer. The rest of the gang accompanied them—including Amy and Oz—and soon they’d pick up Giles and Miss Calendar from the hospital. Buffy rested her head on her girlfriend's shoulder as they walked.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" she asked.

"Thoughts." Cordelia loved sarcasm.

"Wanna narrow it down for me?" There wasn't enough energy in Buffy’s body to devote to smacking.

Cordelia glanced behind them, judging their distance away from their friends. "You don't wanna hear them—not when you look that pale and splotchy." Then she muttered, "But I'm _still_ attracted to you."

"What's that hafta do with...?" Buffy lifted her head up as the answer dawned on her. "Oh," she flushed, totally un-health-related. "Really?"

True to form, Cordelia wasn't the least bit fazed at being found out. "Did you forget that we're kind of involved? If I didn't think about it, we'd have to like, rethink this."

"How much?"

"Enough that it causes me problems, all right?" answered Cordelia with narrowed eyes. "And don't tell me you haven't."

"No, I-I have...I mean, look at you," sputtered Buffy, which made her girlfriend grin. "But I just..." Now _she_ checked the gang's distance, whispering. "I want to, I want _us_ to, but I've never...with anyone. There's also this thing where I don't...know the right steps. And you, yunno, do."

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. "Uh, in case you didn't notice before? They were guys.” Beat. “We’re both gonna have to figure this out. No matter how long it takes. Know I’m not going anywhere.”

"Me either,” smiled Buffy, then she realized, “Um, we could rent some-some videos, or...books. Are there books?"

"Yeah, that I’m never reading." Cordelia wrinkled her nose as if she’d just caught whiff of a really bad odor.

"What's your bright idea? We gotta know what we're doing."

"Xander probably already has plenty of ‘books’—why don’t we just ask him everything?" Cordelia grimaced even though she spoke sardonically. "Eww...I'm _so_ sorry I just said that."

"What're you two gettin’ gabby about? All this swell nature?" Xander questioned with almost creepy timing. "Watch out for the birds and the bees—can’t trust ‘em, y’know. Hitchcock wouldn’t fib."

Cordelia snorted. "That's too easy even for me."

Buffy wanted to laugh, but winced instead, her unpredictable monster of a flu coming back vengeful.  "Can we sit?" Why’d the trees have to spin? "Dizzy."

Cordelia briefly wondered if this was avoidance, but one look told her otherwise. "Hang on, there's a bench right..."

They weren't going to make it.

* * *

  

"What do I owe ya, Danny?" Spike asked the blood bank's delivery boy as they stood at the rear entrance of Sunnydale General that night.

Just as he'd gotten the upper hand the night before, the recruits decided to wake. Three of them—Angelus must've had a big meal. Could anyone blame him for not liking those odds?

If it had stayed one-on-one he would've taken him, but as soon as he saw an opening, he split. It was always a bad idea to not finish what you started. He probably wouldn’t get another chance.

"That's five bags: three AB pos, two O neg. Quality straight from Virginia. _And_ I got a sale going this week—fifty for the set. Lucky you," answered the younger vampire.

Spike handed over the cash. "Yeah, lucky me."

"Layin’ low, huh?" Danny said, accepting the payment. "It's understandable."

Spike’s issues with rage showed in his face. "What of it?"

Danny's hands went up. "Nothing, man; got nothing to say. It's just...you don't normally buy this much, and we-we all heard about Angelus...what you did."

"And I'd do it again. It’s not him—it's the Slayer. She doesn't know I'm out and about," Spike clarified. "Last thing I need is them both on the hunt. Got that, Danny Boy?"

"Sure. But I don't think the Slayer'll be a problem. Least for a couple nights. She checked in this afternoon."

This grabbed Spike’s attention, and he smiled. "What for, 'Bitchitis'?"

* * *

  

Before she even opened her eyes, Buffy knew exactly where she was, and mentally groaned. The smell gave it away, though she also felt the I.V. in her arm and the too-tight blankets. She didn't want to see just yet, but she would've bet they put her in one of those gowns. When she did eventually let herself look at the hospital room, she rationalized—

"Was coming here anyway."

But for other people, not herself. As she reached for the controls to make the bed sit up, several questions came: Did they get Giles and Miss Calendar out okay? Where was everybody? They didn't patrol, did they? How was Cordelia? When could she leave?

Because the blinds were closed, she didn't know whether it was day or night. She'd be a sitting duck if it were the latter. But then she remembered something, derailing her thoughts.

It could’ve been a dream, but she thought she’d gotten out of bed after seeing a kid walk down the hall. There’d been two doctors arguing about treatment...and was there some sort of demon wearing a hat? And a dead girl?

It was probably just in her head.

Her mother came in. "Oh good, you're awake."

Buffy smiled. "Hi, Mom."

"How're you feeling?"

"Little groggy, but okay," she yawned.

"The doctor says you're doing better—want me to have them bring you breakfast?" Joyce offered.

So it was morning. But hospital food? That would make her sick all over again.

"No, I want you to take me home," said Buffy in a small voice.

Joyce went over to the bed and rubbed her hair. "They only wanna keep you a little while longer."

Buffy frowned. "You weren't here all night, were you?"

"Nope. They made Cordelia and I both go home—she was scared for you." Joyce's expression was sympathetic. "You were out of it when they were wheeling you away, honey. Saying things..."

Buffy's eyes widened. "What things?"

"Just about how you didn't want to be here. And something about vampires..."

"Ha. That's...pretty crazy, huh? Very crazy. Pay no attention to crazy me," Buffy smiled nervously. "Sickness leads to that kinda talk—I'm a nut-job."

"We all knew it was because of the flu," assured Joyce. "I told your friends why you didn't like hospitals, and Cordelia seemed to take it hard. She drove you here, you know."

Buffy frowned again—Celia. Her cousin had died in the hospital with her in the room. It was a traumatic experience for an eight-year-old to go through. And now her girlfriend was wrongly punishing herself for exposing how afraid this place made her feel.

Even though Buffy didn't want to admit it, coming here had more than likely saved her life. "Are the guys at school?"

"Mhm. Xander said they'd come by later, and Mr. Giles said he'd call to see how you were—Miss Calendar is staying with him until her leg heals," Joyce answered.

Thinking about those living arrangements, a grin was masked.

"That was horrible, what happened to them. Did they ever catch who it was?"

Buffy’s eyes got both sad and angry. "I'm sure they will."

Joyce glanced at her wristwatch. "I should go to work. Will you be all right? I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'll be fine, Mom."

After her mother kissed her forehead and headed for the door, the woman suddenly stopped and turned around for some reason. "You and Cordelia...you spend a lot of time together, don't you? More than you used to last year?"

"A lot? I dunno about a lot..." Buffy responded evasively, a big “CAUTION” sign going up. "Why?"

"I just thought she went with a different crowd."

"Uh, stuff changes, I guess," shrugged Buffy. "And she's really a cool person."

"She didn't wanna leave,” Joyce told her, laughing a little. “She dared the nurses to try and throw her out. Is she usually that...direct?"

Buffy gaped at the info she was presented with, but then smirked. "I think it's impossible for Cordelia to be anything else. It's practically a code."

"Well, she obviously has a lot of confidence. That’s great for a girl her age. I doubt many people will say no to her in her life."

 _'I know I didn't.'_ "So then what?" Buffy prodded.

"I talked her down." Her mother deserved a medal. "I'm a mom, it's what I do."

* * *

  

"Party Wagon's here!" Xander announced, bursting into the room with balloons several hours later.

Buffy was happy to see them, especially after Giles' call. He asked how she was, said that he and Miss Calendar had talked things out...but he also said he'd been doing some thinking about Angel. He didn't want to get into specifics, so he left it by saying he’d know more when she came home.

"Good!" Dr. Wilkinson said as the rest of them flooded in. "Maybe you can keep our patient from bolting." She looked at the fussy girl in the bed before leaving. "Rest! Hmm?"

"Flowers for m'lady." Xander presented his gift.

Buffy looked up at them. "I think they call those balloons."

"Yeah, stick 'em in water, maybe they'll grow."

Cordelia shut the door and joined the gang, biting her lip almost nervously.

"Not to be outdone..." Willow put the books she was carrying on the bed.

Buffy was quizzical—her friend had to know her better than this. "Homework?"

"It's my way of saying, 'Get Well Soon,’" smiled Willow.

Perhaps not.

"You know, chocolate says that even better," Buffy hinted.

Willow’s smile became a grin. "I did all your assignments; all you have to do is sign your name."

"Chocolate means _nothing_ to me."

Amy was next in line. "I just did a healing spell—options were kinda limited."

"I knew doctors were full of crap," Buffy smiled gratefully.

Cordelia was last but not least. "Nobody told me I was supposed to bring a gift." She eyed everyone. "I was out of the loop on gifts."

She wanted to smack herself—she was the girlfriend. The one most expected to bring something. Buffy's well being was on her mind every class, though; they had to give her points for that.

"We've discussed this—you're my gift." Buffy patted the mattress, and Cordelia climbed up to sit beside her. 

"You look better." Cordelia touched her lips to a familiar pair for an impressively long French kiss. "Yeah...definitely better."

They turned to stare at the spectators.

"Don’t gifts traditionally, uh, get unwrapped?" Xander wondered hopefully.

"It’s also traditional to take dogs for walks," countered a glaring Cordelia. "Amy, maybe you should tie him up outside."

"How about I give him fleas?" Amy counteroffered, arms folding across her chest.

"Sleep okay?" Cordelia asked, focusing on her girlfriend and ignoring Xander’s figurative shrinking. "I had no idea...about her." She felt so bad. "I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't, but no worries; I'm coping, really. Thanks for ignoring and getting me here." Buffy kissed her that time. "Heard about the fight you put up."

"Well, visiting hours suck," Cordelia declared.

Then, at the risk of sounding insane and still feverish, Buffy thought she ought to place what she saw last night before the gang. All day she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling it was real. They could at least research.

"You know, let's take a walk—there's something I gotta tell you guys."

* * *

  

Angelus thoroughly enjoyed his new mansion. It always came down to status. If vampires didn't grab hold of the finer things, then they were only animals.

He would’ve asked his more moral half if it agreed, but it had kept quiet lately. No doubt to conserve what little remained of its strength. Smart in a way, just plain stupid in another. Because people—like his recruits—continued to die.

Spike's “attack” was a formal announcement that he had joined the game, which Angelus could handle. Yet right now he was content to wait and see just how much Spike was willing to put on the line. Oh how wished he could be there when Buffy disposed of the competition.

* * *

  

The sun was setting the next day as Buffy sat in her hospital room with Willow, contemplating how to deal with Der Kindestod. Yes, the demon had been real, and it went after sick children. It also killed the doctor trying to cure them. But she didn't see it anymore, and to be able to fight, she needed to.

"She actually brought it up?" Willow asked in amazement.

What Buffy was thinking and what they were saying were two different things.

"Guess the word wasn't ever..." She was trying to avoid being too descriptive; it made discussing easier. "But yeah, we had a not-conversation about how we could maybe...some day that's soon."

Willow pushed aside the embarrassment that wanted to overtake her. "You _should_ study. ‘Cause, I'm a firm believer in studying—the firmest."

"But then I think, it’s not a test, it’s...you know...so going with the flow might be the best thing,” countered Buffy. “I dunno."

"What don't you know?" Cordelia questioned, walking in carrying a _DoubleMeat Palace_ bag and a milkshake.

Fast food had never smelled so good.

"How I could've survived in here without you." Buffy eyed the bag hungrily, clawing for it, but her girlfriend held it just out of reach.

Cordelia ignored the whimper. "Honesty, then you can get fat."

"Um, you-you guys should..." Willow trailed off as she was silenced with a look. "Who ever said hospital chairs weren't super comfy to stay put in?"

"Sex. You and me. Preparing for," spilled Buffy, too starved to give her the runaround. "Now gimmie."

"B-but we-we just talked. There-there was no demonstrating, or-or experimenting, and oh! No, uh, talking about experimenting, either—not even vowel sounds. I mean, there’s Oz and you and 'best friend' boundaries, and was that really _Candy Land_ in the lounge? Anyone else wanna play? I’ll go get it." Willow bolted. 

* * *

 

"She needs help. Seriously,” commented Cordelia.

"And I promise to get her tons—specialists, even—as soon as they let me out, just feed me,” whined Buffy. "I can't slay on an empty stomach."

"Did your arms suddenly break while I was gone?" Cordelia chucked the bag, and slayer hands caught it. "Oh my god, it’s like an incredibly lame miracle."

Carefully positioning herself beside Buffy so she didn't drop the cup, she handed it over and kicked off her shoes. Then she stole fries, resulting in a mini-staring contest. Defeat was admitted when her girlfriend pouted.

"You're such a baby sometimes...here." Cordelia held a fry in her hand. "If every vampire knew—"

"’Cept they won't." Buffy cut her off and was fed, the fry contorting and being pushed into her mouth.

As she accepted it, she couldn't help but accept a fingertip as well.

Cordelia's eyes glazed over at this development, and then became laser-focused. "Did they like...crank the heat up insanely high in the last five minutes?"

Buffy chuckled, ceasing her actions. "Two seconds...less than, and you're going 'Porno' on me—definitely filing _that_ for future reference. But see? I receive, then I give."

Getting the kissing underway, Buffy didn't even realize that the solution to the demon problem had presented itself. Why would she? Cordelia's lips managed to reach her neck, while hands started to feel up her gown—the only thing she was wearing.

"You had to pick now?" A few more seconds of touching, and Buffy wouldn't be coherent. "Where it's public, with nurses and doctors and other...people going...could be...coming too..." Did she just hiss? "God, thanks to you my temperature's gonna be Guinness-worthy. I’ll be stuck here for a month."

Then it clicked. "That's it! That's how I'll be able to see it when I kill it!"

Cordelia could sense that their heavy groping session had come to an end.

"Kill what?"

"Der Kindergarten. I had a temperature when I saw him before, so I hafta get another one. Willow can help me," Buffy said. "Where’d she...?"

Cordelia sighed. "This is gonna put a major crimp in our sex-life—meaning, we're never gonna have one."

"We will too," insisted Buffy, hugging her close. "And...hospital? They catch us, we're jail-bound—you're the only bitch I want, Cor."

"Nice, Buffy. Real nice." Cordelia sighed again as if she were being forced to acknowledge a supposed given. "But I _am_ the best."

"Compliment of the harmless kind." Buffy saw the mischievous grin, and knew whatever was behind it couldn't be lawful. It was her mistake, mentioning prison. "Hey! No kinkiness until after I have at least one, normal, sexual experience. Who knew Cordelia Chase was such a—?"

“How am I supposed to help it? It’s your fault for driving me horny!" Cordelia’s next kiss was more chaste than those before it. "I'm tracking down Willow, aren't I?"

"Please?" Buffy released her with a smile.

Cordelia tried to look put out, but couldn't manage it, shrugging. “Since I hafta go find a bathroom to reapply in... _again_..."

"You’re gonna blame the smearing on little ol' me? I’m just a poor, bedridden sick person, who was _only_ trying to rest when—" Buffy’s teasing resulted in a tongue being stuck out in her direction. "Don't with the tempting, you can't win."

She resumed eating fries, demonstrating her point.

* * *

  

The second Cordelia emerged from the bathroom and turned to go in search of their missing friend, a hand covered her mouth from behind.

"Hello, luv."


	12. Eleven

_She flies from a blinding light_

_And spirals to my heart_

_I try to find my mind_

_But don't know where to start_

_Won't ever_

_Can't ever find my sanity_

_Won't ever_

_Can't ever 'til I hear_

_Her calling for me_

_She knows that side of me_

_Can't help it_

_Can't help that side of me_

Just a little more

_Just until I know what I'm feeling_

_Just a little more to find my sanity_

_I'm lost in a thousand nights_

_But sun shines at my feet_

_I'd walk through a thousand fires_

_And next to me she'd be_

\-- "She Knows" by Four Star Mary (a.k.a. "Dingoes Ate My Baby") 

* * *

 

 

Cordelia sat on a crate in the rundown factory, watching apprehensively as her chain-smoking captor paced back and forth. Was he trying to kill her secondhand? And since when did he lose the wheelchair?

If he was going to torture her, she wished he'd get it over with. She'd been here...well, it was now the following afternoon. She thought she deserved a reward for being the obedient captive this long.

It was becoming clearer and clearer that Spike's kidnapping plan wasn't airtight. The only thing he'd told her to do was stay quiet, which was hours ago, and a quick glance around revealed they were alone. She could wait for her moment and be in daylight easy.

He must've known that though, because he wasn't going anywhere. He also had to know that she was at the top of the priority list. But since Buffy didn't know he was back in action, it might take a while. What was the deal?

"Are you gonna start acting evil anytime soon?" Cordelia decided to try her luck. "You are a vampire, right?"

"What did I tell you?" He paused in his pacing to snap at her, and then started again.

"Hey, I haven't said a word since last night...that's like a first for me." She picked at her nails. "Doesn't matter. I'll play hostage, Buffy'll come kick your ass, and then we can go back to worrying about someone who's actually scary."

He walked up to her, speaking with controlled anger. "It’s better for both of us if your lungs keep on—makes my nights out less complicated, and you less dead. But I can change the plan if I have to."

"I'm sure." She was flippant because he was just buying time. Even she could see the fear in his eyes. "Just...whatever you're trying to prove, do it some time today? I have places I could be."

* * *

  

_\- Xander's been good enough to get Jenny's mail, and the...the spell arrived while you were in the hospital. I believe it's safe to assume that Angelus is unaware of our plans; if he weren’t, he would've interfered by now. So, ah, we're in the process of tediously translating the text. Once we determine what's necessary, and if we can find someone willing to cast... -_

That was the last thing Giles said to her before she left, and he hadn't needed to finish—getting Angel back was an option. A week ago she would've been gung ho about the idea, but she'd lost her ability to be objective when the demon wearing his face stole her girlfriend. That was the general consensus around town, anyway.

Who else could it have been?

He would be punished...badly. Maybe she’d even kill him.

Concentrating on Cordelia was the only thing stopping her from collapsing. Angelus would do it, end Cordelia’s life on a whim. She had to find him before that whim hit.

She was surprised Giles even told her. By the look in his eyes, and the way he looked at Miss Calendar, she got the feeling he hadn’t wanted to. Watcher and Slayer were on the same page, but Miss Calendar was still able to see the difference between “Man” and “Monster.”

Cordelia had already been missing when she snapped Der Kindestod’s neck. The monster had taken her. From right down the hall.

Buffy was so mad at herself. The uneasy feeling that kept spreading didn't help much, either. She didn't know what she'd do if...if something worse happened.

But nothing would. It was going to be okay—she could handle this. Her girlfriend was tough, and would hang in there.

This had to be a test. To see how badly she wanted a relationship. Unfair? Most definitely, but she’d find a way to pass. She wanted Cordelia; she wanted them to work. Thinking of them being over before they’d barely begun made her sick.

The next time she said “I love you,” she’d _know_ it was more than a high school thing. And that would help when she told her mother.

She just wished they could’ve had that sex.

* * *

 

"Out," Buffy commanded the demonic patrons of Willy's bar as she stepped inside, and those that could, went wide-eyed. "Now."

She stared them down until they began filing out past her and her unwavering, determined stance. Checking to see if she and the bar's owner were alone, she was disappointed when she saw a vampire still having a drink. This really wasn't the day to challenge her resolve.

In full, slayer-intimidation mode, she walked up to him and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Can’t find the door? Here, I’ll help."

She considered hauling him to the sewer entrance, but then she pretended he was Angelus. He burned up rather quickly. Vampires were fragile.

Willy was fragile as well, which was why he ducked behind the bar. "Guy was one’a my best customers, ya know." He poked his head out.

"Business'll survive." She leaned over the counter.

"So, uh, need somethin’, kid? Or did you just chase away my regulars for the fun of it?" His nervous queries got no replies. "Which is totally cool by me."

"Where’s Angel's new place? And don't try to weasel outta this, or haggle, because I'm so not in the mood."

"This about your lady-friend?"

Hopping over to the other side, she then drove him back, eventually slamming him up against the jukebox. "Really wanna see my mean side, Willy?"

"You're always mean," he cringed. "And I think I have a hernia."

"About to get a whole lot meaner."

He hadn't seen that look from her before. "Okay, okay—I'll tell ya. On the house."

Buffy loosened her grip. "Knew you had a generous bone somewhere in there."

"Yeah, sure do, and you almost broke it."

* * *

  

Spike had just about reached his limit.

"You kidnapped me to make Buffy think Angel did it?" Cordelia wanted to laugh, but held it in. "Why don't you kill him if you hate him so much?"

"I tried, all right? The bugger's a cockroach that won’t bloody die." His desperation was obvious. "My whole un-life he acted better than me, always Dru's favorite."

Fists clenched tightly, then unclenched.

"Slayer's the end of the line, believe me, but the bird's dedicated. Capable, she is."

"It's a 'jealousy' thing? Oh my god. I can't believe...you are _such_ a loser." Standing up, she was glared at. "What happens if Buffy can't do it?"

"Oughta have more confidence in your lady...life hangin’ in the balance and all that," he reminded her.

Pissed off, Cordelia got in his face. "You could've sent my girlfriend marching off to her death."

"Risk I was willing to take, yeah," he smirked.

"Have you always been a coward, Spike? Or is it just seasonal?" He “vamped,” but she didn't flinch. "If she dies, I'll—"

She felt the blow of the supernatural slap, and then was on the floor, jaw aching.

"Join her? Say the word, pet." He picked her up, flung her over his shoulder, and carried her into what was once Drusilla's room.

"You dumb ass!" she yelled back in defiance. "You're gonna be so staked! Put me down!"

He obliged, setting her on the bed. Cordelia was quickly creeped out by the doll collection. Spike grabbed a sheet, tore it in slices, and then proceeded to tie her hands together. She wanted to be out of here, yet if there was a possibility Buffy could die coming after her, she'd rather take her chances with the lame excuse for a creature of the night.

Aside from being one of the rare, selfless thoughts she'd had in her short lifetime, it wouldn't change anything. Still, it led to an important revelation (how come those always seemed to happen when she was bound?). All she’d begun to picture her future to be, the slayer was in it—the stubborn, strong, weak, funny, serious, bitchy, whiny, complex, beautiful slayer. Despite her better judgement, she'd fallen hard. 

“Love” was a term meaninglessly thrown around in high school, but they were the real deal, she could feel it. If only because of the simple fact that Cordelia Chase didn't tend to put the well being of many people ahead of her own.

And they hadn’t even had sex yet. That alone was going to get her through this.

"What if she finds out it was you?" Cordelia asked.

"Then you'll find out how much she fancies your pretty head."

Another slice was used as a gag.

* * *

 

"You're not going, Giles," Buffy told him, gathering weapons. "Want me to list reasons why? ‘Cause I can."

She examined an axe blade that could've been sharper.

"I won't argue. I realize there isn't time," he said, and she was grateful.

She knew he worried that she’d act carelessly. Cordelia was alive and depending on her—she was going to be everything but careless.  She’d do whatever it took, even if that meant losing Angel.

Plus, besides holding her girlfriend hostage, Angelus had to pay for all the deaths he was responsible for, all the pain. All the evil she couldn't prevent.

Miss Calendar was lying on the couch, her leg propped up on pillows, concernedly watching them both.

"They said they'd be right back," spoke Buffy, impatient.

The gang was going as backup, despite her objections.

"And they will," Giles assured, then, "Buffy, I know you care for Cordelia..."

"Love." She wondered if the two adults knew how strongly she felt.

It was no different than how they felt about each other. Age didn't make experts, not when it came to heart stuff. The emotional one obviously.

Removing his glasses, Giles wisely stood corrected. "...that you love her a great deal, and I don't want to say anything that might affect your plan...but, you should be aware of all we've discovered."

"There's more?" She threw her selections into a duffel bag at her feet, and then gave him her full attention. "Tell me."

"The Judge."

"We put him in five different trash bags, which we then burned...with lots of enthusiasm." Her face fell. "His ashes didn't remake him, did they?"

"No, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?"

"He could've caused Angelus to surface; he's the only force I can think of that's powerful enough to break through the magick my people used," said Miss Calendar, noting the perplexed look. "I wasn't there at the mall, but Rupert walked me through what happened."

"Angel got hit." Buffy replayed the events in her head. "Me, he got hit protecting me. It bought time, and I got the shot off."

"Had the Judge held on a few seconds longer, Angel would have been vaporized," Giles continued.

 Miss Calendar took over again. "But instead, his soul weakened just enough for the demon to take over. The curse wasn't broken, only damaged—which is why he's still there."

"But sooner or later he won't be, right? Then it's too late?" Buffy received a nod of confirmation from Giles. "Does the Judge have anything to do with the spell? You know, because he—?"

"We don't think so."

She should've figured it out, should've known. It made perfect sense, and Buffy knew why they told her. The plan all along was to kill him, but now...

Angel had to watch his hands murder innocent people because he’d saved her life. He risked his existence for her, and his “thank you” was death? Didn't seem right.

It wasn't his fault; he didn’t know. Neither did she, except there was guilt regardless. She wasn't sure what she'd choose, but at least she knew the whole story.

Willow came in. "We're, uh, ready. Pl-plus tense, frightened and...sorta really frightened, but, mostly ready." She gave a brave smile. "You?"

"You don't have to..." Buffy trailed off as she watched her friend’s foot tap expectantly on the floor. "Ready and raring." She looked at Giles.

"Be careful," he told her.

"I will." She headed to Willow once she picked up the bag, and then turned to smile reassuringly. "We all will."

* * *

  

Angelus loved the twentieth century. All the information and news he could possibly want was at his fingertips. As he looked at the headline in the morning's paper again, he smiled. Just when he thought he wouldn't have anything grand enough to give Buffy the proper send off, this was waiting.

And what better way to say goodbye to the soul then by giving it one, final kick while it was down? Some of the boys were out doing some last minute checking, but he planned to have what he needed before dawn tomorrow.

Being confident as he was, it was a bit of a shock to see Buffy and Friends just walk right in. Three of his people surrounded them quickly, but were hit by bursts of holy water from Willow and Xander’s _Super Soakers_. Then the werewolf (and a girl he hadn't seen before) staked two of the painfully distracted trio. Buffy easily handled the last with a well-aimed crossbow bolt.

Stuffing the paper underneath the cushions of the couch he was sitting on, he got to his feet, clapping. It took his foe a second to remember she wasn't looking at her friend.

"Three? That's all you had? I was expecting to hafta slay," she taunted, chucking the bag around her shoulder to her friends, and motioning for them to hang back.

As they did, they got in front of the girl he didn’t know.

"You know what they say about good help," he answered with a, “What can you do?” shrug. "If I'd known you were coming, would've given you more of a challenge."

"S' okay, don't beat yourself up." Buffy threw her weapon to the side. "Let me."

"You think you can kill me? ‘Cause I'm betting you'll fold," he predicted.

"Wanna find out?" she offered amicably. "Or, you could tell me where she is, and I might consider reconsidering."

"’She’?" Angelus really didn't know.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Cordelia."

He almost laughed. Spike was cleverer than he thought; she was dumber.

"Nice move," he whispered to himself, and said the next part so she could hear. "Don't think I wanna do that."

"Great—thanks for just making this easier." 

* * *

 

 

Patting her pocket to make sure she had a stake there, Buffy charged Angelus, and the fight began. Adrenaline allowed her the first strike—a high, front-snap kick which, when it connected to his face, forced his arms out for balance as he stumbled backwards. Seeing that he wasn't able to counter, she followed up with another kick. To the stomach. As soon as he doubled over, she round-housed the side of his head.

Rolling onto his back on the floor, he grabbed her ankle, pulled, and saw her fall down face-first. Not wasting time, he got over her and gripped her neck, giving it a squeeze. She struggled, and he put everything he had into keeping her in place.

The thing about adrenaline? It always wore off. And now he could probably smell its replacement—fear.

"Gotta do better than that, Buf."

She was lifted as he stood, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Xander fire. The stream was off-target though, not penetrating Angelus’ shirt.

"Somebody just tagged himself in," he realized.

Throwing Buffy against the wall, he shifted to his vampiric face, not even bothering to watch her slide down to the ground. He headed in Xander's direction, and was met by two crosses in the hands of Willow and Oz. They all blocked Amy from him. Before he could focus on that, Xander made sure Angelus saw him now brandishing an axe.

Angelus winced, keeping just enough distance from the crosses.

"Stay back," commanded Xander, a slight crack betraying his tone.

"What's a'matter?" Angelus questioned. "There a chink in the White Knight's armor?"

"Amy," whispered Willow, looking back to see the witch nod.

Angelus seized on Willow's lack of attention and swatted the cross away, smiling as her eyes shone with dread.

"Willow!" yelled Oz, but he couldn't get to her and keep his cross in place.

Xander however, could do something. He swung the axe upwards with all the strength he could muster, and snagged Angelus' chin...to no effect. Sometimes he forgot he was a mere mortal.

His second attempt was intercepted. Angelus got a grip on the handle, then with a fast yank, he was flung. He dropped to his knees when his legs couldn't move quick enough to keep him upright.

Their enemy examined the axe. "Could be sharper."

Angelus raised it, and Oz didn't have a choice. He was going to jump the vampire, but a voice stopped everything.

"Forget about me?”

Angelus turned just in time to see his sofa come flying at him. Buffy had gotten a running start, and was able to launch it. When the contact came, his knees buckled and he fell back, his legs hanging over the arm. He had also lost the axe, which she caught and was holding against his neck.

"Now d’you wanna tell me?" Buffy asked, and he still had the smug smile. "It’s okay, I'll look myself. And you’ll wait here—right, Amy?"

The gang moved aside, and Amy looked upon him with blackened eyes, energy swirling around her. "Thicken!"

Buffy backed away, and couldn't help the laugh that came when he tried to take a step beyond the couch. Amy’s spell wouldn't let him.

"Watch him, and don't get too close." She began her search. "Cordelia!"

* * *

 

 

"Come on," Spike said looking at the ceiling, wishing the noise upstairs would stop, "follow bloody through for once."

He also wished he could be there to make sure Buffy did, but he couldn't very well leave the girl here alone. This had to be worth it, or he was a goner.

* * *

  

"You'll be there for about three hours, so I’d get comfortable," Amy told the vampire, a satisfied smile on her face.

Buffy rejoined them, glaring at Angelus. She'd scoured the place, and Cordelia was nowhere to be found.  Waiting for an answer to her unvoiced question, he just started laughing, sending a shiver through everyone present.

"You always fall for it,” he eventually spoke. “And who would’ve figured Captain Peroxide had the ba—?"

When the truth dawned, Buffy opened her mouth to speak but there was no sound.

"Spike?" Willow didn’t have that problem, interrupting. "But he's..."

"Up on two legs, and kinda mad at me. Can't imagine why." There was an evil gleam in Angelus’ eye.

"How come—?" Buffy started, wondering why Willy didn’t tell her the truth.

"What can I say? I'm a pain in the ass. No matter who came out on top, everybody wins." The gang absorbed this information. "Anything else you wanna know? Like maybe...how to do your job?"

Buffy regained her composure. "Nope, got that down."

"So finish it—stake me," he dared. "Then if she's not already dried up..."

"Oz...sword." Not feeling anything being placed in her outstretched hand, she turned to stare at their unsure expressions. Hers was not.

Any other suggestions ready to emerge from their lips, died. But what about the spell? What about Angel?

Angel would probably welcome the release, been craving it.

Oz fished around in the bag, found what she wanted, and handed it to her. Angelus hadn't wavered, still silently challenging her. He even added a cocky smirk in hopes that it’d push her over the edge. She raised the blade...

...then thrust the metal straight through his neck until it stuck out the back of the couch, covered in blood. He began gagging and failing his arms, trying to free himself. It wouldn't kill him, but it would be painful for a very, very long time. Her girlfriend was rubbing off on her. She silently apologized to her trapped friend.

What kind of punishment was death for a vampire?

"Rope—we gotta tie his hands," instructed Buffy, and a minute later, he definitely wasn't going anywhere. "If you have any guys left that can stand you, I’m guessing they'll spring you eventually. But, uh, think I'll just grab whatever you're hiding."

She lifted up his leg and removed the paper she'd seen him stash when they entered. Yeah, he was most likely planning something, but it wasn't going to work, because she'd be there to stop it. She'd also get Angel back. Though first she had a cheerleader to save, and an undead, British bastard to kill.

"We'll have to do this again sometime," remarked Xander, cringing slightly as blood poured from Angelus' mouth.

Somewhere inside that hurting body, Angel was happy.

* * *

 

 

"Honestly, Slayer, was just a—" The swift kick she gave to Spike's groin effectively shut him up. "Oww!" Except for the scream.

Xander and Oz had to turn away.

Buffy bent down to look him straight in his agonized face. "If you so much as _pinched_ my girlfriend? Wait and see what I do to the rest of you, Spike."

"She's...upstairs...no harm done..." he told her, and though she left, he wasn't out of danger. Four weapons were pointed, at the ready. "Hello all...lovely day, innit?"

Buffy kicked down the door to Drusilla's room in seconds flat, rushing in to find dolls everywhere. Not to mention a restrained Cordelia on the floor, making muffled exclamations through her gag.

She got down, sat Cordelia up, and freed her as fast as super-humanly possible—which was pretty damn fast. 

"Buffy?"

They stared at one another for an impossibly lengthy stretch, before hugging like there was no tomorrow. And considering the lives they led, there might not be.

Without even realizing it, both had begun to tear. For Cordelia, whose mascara was going to run, this was a relatively new sensation. She wasn't crying because she’d been afraid for her life, she was crying because she'd been afraid for Buffy's, and now things were okay.

They each muttered unintelligible forms of thanks into the other's neck.

Buffy was crying for much the same reason. For nearly twenty-four hours, _she_ was afraid for Cordelia’s life. She wanted to apologize, wanted to grovel, wanted to beg forgiveness. But when they broke apart, her girlfriend wore an expression she knew by heart: “Feel guilty and I'll yell—loudly.”

"I thought he..."

"Did you...?"

Buffy shook her head. "I couldn't, not while we have a chance." She saw a faint bruise below Cordelia’s bottom lip and touched it, frowning. "Did Spike hurt you?"

"It'll cover up."  

Buffy stroked Cordelia’s dark hair. "One day. _One_ day, and I couldn’t deal. You shouldn't've been here."

"What do I hafta do to get through the thickness?" Cordelia eliminated the chance for any sort of reply by kissing. "I'm fine."

Kiss.

"We're fine."

Kiss.

"Everything’s fine."

Kiss.

"So knock it the hell off. Did anybody ever tell you how much your ‘Super-Girl’ complex _isn’t_ a turn on?"

"I get it. Turning on starts now,” said Buffy with a smile. “Miss me?”

Each wanted to feel the other, and their kissing reached a fevered pitch; they didn't even stop as they were getting off the floor.

Though as soon as Cordelia remembered the locale, she called it quits. "If this is...you know, leading where it better be...then let's not go there in Crazy Elvira's bedroom." She gestured to the dolls, her breath heavy.

* * *

 

They headed for the stairs, and ultimately, for outside.

"About time—I _need_ natural light. People completely don’t appreciate Vitamin D," Cordelia informed her. "Just because Spike bursts into flames..."

"There's also that annoying ‘skin cancer’ thing."

"Uh, that’s why they sell SPF 30." Beginning their descent to the factory floor, Cordelia lowered her voice. "Are we going to?"

"...Uh huh."

"When?"

"Tonight?”

Cordelia had seen that look before—she was wanted, and it made her suddenly nervous. "Yeah. Tonight."

Everyone came over, relieved, yet not exactly making a commotion. "Don't act all overjoyed to see me or anything," she remarked with a smirk.

That was the green light for the gang, who hugged her one-by-one. Well, Oz just held up his hand. Buffy stood back and viewed the reunion, taking a deep breath and a very slow exhale.

No matter what her girlfriend said, it could've gone bad. Next time something tried to get to her through Cordelia, it might have more nerve than Spike. Then what?

Willow came up behind her, placing a comforting hand on her back. "She's all safe and sound-y, see? Told you."

"Thanks, Will," Buffy smiled. “Next time” was in the future that hadn’t happened. This was now. "And yeah, I’m glad you guys were there." Her friend smiled back, liking ego boosts. "Amy was—"

"Wasn't she awesome?"

"Xander’s in trouble," Buffy concluded, and they snickered. "You sure you're...?"

Willow swatted her. "Will you stop asking us that?"

Spike cautiously walked over. "Looks like the troupe's all smiles. Got your slag back just like I said... _and_ in one piece—"

"Hey, take the back!" Willow had been gaining knowledge of British slang so she could understand Giles, and that “s-word” wasn't very nice.

Buffy faced him, glaring. "You hit her."

He started to backpedal. "Just tell me I can slip him through my fingers, and I’ll die with a spot of happiness in my heart."

"Heart?" She forced out through a cough. "You mean the one that hasn't worked in like, a century? Because it's _dead_?"

Spike studied her. "You didn't do it." He let loose an anguish-ridden bellow, knowing the answer. "Typical—all Hat and no Cat."

She raised her eyebrows. "Then why are you backing up?"

This was not his day.

* * *

  

"I still say you shoulda let me do the ‘cigarette thing’—he could've burned to death internally," said Buffy through gritted teeth.

Cordelia sat at Buffy's vanity, brushing her shower-dampened hair. She stopped the comb in mid-stroke. Looking past her reflection in the mirror, she rolled her eyes at her girlfriend. Similar remarks had been said ever since they left the factory, and now it was just overkill.

"I’m done buying the act, Buffy, so you can drop it. Anytime now," she resumed brushing, enjoying the feeling of being clean.

There must have been fifty, different odors in that factory, all of which had one thing in common: Death.

"Okay, maybe I wouldn't've gone that far," conceded Buffy, lying on her bed, "but it doesn't make the imagery any less fun." She eyed Cordelia. "I think my robe kinda loves wearing you."

Cordelia smiled, checking out the very cozy, very soft, dark-green robe she was wearing. "I know." Now Buffy’s eyes rolled. "And _you_ know I'm right about Spike."

"Yeah..."

"You don't kill losers; you get them to do whatever you tell them to do," spoke Cordelia from experience. "You wanna make him regret 'kidnapping' me—and I’m using the term in the loosest possible way, trust me—you force him to help us. His reputation’s already beyond sad. Plus, he hates Angelus."

Buffy smirked. "What would I do without uber-rational you?"

"D’you really wanna imagine your life without me in it?" Cordelia asked back.

“No. Really don’t.”

Buffy got off her bed, went over to the vanity, took the comb from Cordelia's hand, and set it down.

Cordelia didn't protest, mainly because she was distracted by the new view in the mirror. "Is that my shirt?"

"Borrowed it when I spent the night at your place."

"’Cause you just, _forgot_ to bring your own clothes," Cordelia remembered, only half-accusing.

"Next time there’s assassins? I’ll remember to pack," said Buffy, and slid her arms around her girlfriend's neck. "Believe what you want, but I wasn't trying to steal from the walk-in runway that’s called your closet...even though you stole from me."

Valentine's Day—the comfortable sweater and sweatpants.

"You said I could keep them," said Cordelia. "And if you want the shirt, just ask."

"You want it back, you can have it back, but first," Buffy leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I hafta not be wearing it."

Cordelia swallowed. It was easy to be the aggressor, but being on the receiving end was causing every hormone to overload. "Those pants...are they my pants? They look like...yeah, I think they're mine."

Buffy wore a playful grin. An, “Are you coming with?” grin. 

* * *

 

 

She took her hand, waited for her to rise from the chair, and then led them over to the bed. Then Buffy’s “take charge” attitude was gone. All Cordelia could think to do was push back further onto the mattress so they could lay, and after staring at the ceiling a while, they thought it might be a good idea if they could see one another.

They turned on their sides.

It was amazing how fast a combination of fear and horniness took away Cordelia's ability to function, especially considering she wasn’t a guy. The number of times she'd had sex was a slightly exaggerated figure, but it had been almost trendy in the past. Not something she absolutely needed to do.

Until now. She _had_ to do this. She had to make love to her girlfriend.

Would she be any good? That was what she was afraid of.

It was their first time, and she didn't want to be so bad that it would be their last. True, they were both new, but she was putting pressure on herself nonetheless. There was going to be pleasure, damn it.

During the quiet, they'd been lightly—not even aware—wandering wherever their hands wished to go. Gaining courage, Buffy, every part of her tense, decided to take the leap and guide them. The fingers of her one hand began to trace Cordelia’s face, while the fingers of her other wrapped around the cloth holding robe together.

She listened as her girlfriend sucked in a sharp breath, and felt the small shudder. Seconds passed which were more like eons. But then the kiss came.

It came from a smiling Cordelia—the familiarity calmed them. "Go with the flow."

* * *

  

A robe, a shirt, a pair of pants, and those layers of clothing usually kept hidden, were scattered somewhere along the floor. Moonlight had found its way into the darkened bedroom, the window blinds casting a shadow that played across Cordelia's naked back. They failed to see.

All the girls could notice were the sounds and movements their partner made as they experimented in new territory.

Once Cordelia discovered that Buffy was going to like what she was doing because _she_ was the one doing it, shyness left in a hurry. She was thoroughly enjoying getting to know the body underneath her. It helped that she knew what she'd liked, when it was her turn to give.

They were half-covered by sheets. Beneath them, as Cordelia slid her fingers through the only hair still natural on Buffy, Buffy’s heels dug into the mattress, head tossing side-to-side. Sweat cascading down her forehead, Buffy couldn't hold back the sigh. Or the moan. Or whatever noise it was she'd just made.

Buffy reacted to, what in her mind, seemed like a gracious, expert touch. She didn't torture Cordelia this much, did she? She felt so tensed. Another hand started caressing her face, which got her to somewhat relax, and open her eyes.

Cordelia, whom she vaguely recognized as girlfriend and lover, smiled down at her.

"Hey."

The word sounded husky and sweet, saying everything, and also asking permission. Buffy hoped her frantic nodding was clear enough. She mumbled something she wasn't sure was heard, because Cordelia suddenly vanished out of sight.

Within a second, Buffy felt warm breath blowing where she hadn't ever remembered feeling breath before. Then she felt a mouth...and then came dizziness. And spinning.

Not like when she’d been sick—this didn't hurt at all.

She knew she was calling out Cordelia's name, but was deaf to her own voice. She knew her hands were pushing on a brunette head, but she didn’t feel them. She let the waves rippling through her do as they pleased. She let herself be blissfully, figuratively knocked out, and things began to settle.

Her girlfriend soon lay beside her, snuggling close and planting small kisses down her arm as she recuperated. It hadn't even had the slimmest chance of being a disappointment. Sex with Cordelia would no doubt be a consistently draining experience. 

Said person looked directly at her. "I didn't know anyone could do that and look so..." Beat. "You know...beautiful." Hazel eyes rolled, and cheeks blushed. "Shut up."

"You looked pretty beautiful yourself. Not that that's a new thing..." Buffy amended, loving the afterglow. "Woulda said so after, but, couldn’t get a word in edgewise."

"There was a flow, I went with it." Cordelia's nails lazily followed the curve of Buffy’s breasts. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

A throaty chuckle from Buffy. "I love you, Cor." Her eyelids were drooping, and as a result, the next part came in the midst of a yawn. "So much."

"Mm...love you, too." Cordelia pulled the covers up, and then shut her eyes.

* * *

  

Maybe they should've noticed those blinds. They could’ve peeked through them and seen a Jeep in the driveway. If they hadn't been so busy, they also could've heard the front door open. If they weren't so exhausted, they would've realized there were footsteps on the stairs.

Oh, they heard the bedroom door, but by then it was too late.

Light from the hallway flooded in. It was bright, intrusive—a stark contrast to the moon. It illuminated more than the girls intended to reveal, and more than the intruder cared to see. It made them all become real alert, real quick.

"Mom!”


	13. Twelve

People were sleeping, demons were sleeping, lots of things slept now. That was how it should be. Imagine if nobody got any sleep—why, cops would doze off in their coffees, pedestrians would zone out looking at the little, “Crosswalk Sign” guy, and the puppies...who would walk the puppies?

Those were the arguments for returning to bed that Buffy was considering presenting to her mother, who waited downstairs. Life would be simpler if the three of them could just agree to pretend that what happened, didn't happen. Yes, simpler.

"That wasn't how I wanted her to know," she said to Cordelia, pacing. "I wanted a nice, calm talk, with routes for escaping...but no, it had to be huge and heart attack causing. With the suddenness, and-and the seeing—my god, the seeing."

They were clothed, and rather uncomfortable. Even lovemaking had an aftermath, which was undoubtedly perspiration. Adding layers to nakedness so soon was a bad idea.

In a rush to eliminate awkwardness however, they selected the first apparel—from the appropriate drawers—that their hands came into contact with.

Cordelia wouldn't normally be caught dead in a _Power Rangers_ t-shirt and purple shorts with an elastic waistband, but this was an extreme circumstance—sacrifices had to be made. She sat at the foot of the bed quietly, but just as freaked, continuing to allow Buffy's rant to run amuck.

"And what're we about to go do? Come out? Come out halfway? One foot totally free while the other foot holds the closet open, in case they both want back in? What?" Buffy took a deep breath or three. "They've gotta invent new categories. Like 'Gayishly Straight.' Or 'Straightishly Gay. Or, 'Les-Boys Are Cute Sometimes-ianism.'"

She quickly regretted saying that. "Not that I wanna label us...it's just that she's gonna ask, and we're...kinda un-labelable." 

"Buffy?" interjected Cordelia, which was necessary at this point.

Buffy did babble in her own, unique way, but was she was trying to challenge Willow's monopoly of the market?

"Yeah? Yes?" The gears were having trouble slowing, but she produced a smile. "Oh...hi."

"Hi," Cordelia smiled back. "First, take a Valium. Second, it’s called ‘Bisexual.’ If it comes up, we keep it simple. Maybe she'll take it better if she knows we aren’t like, exclusive, and only checking out biker chicks now or something."

"But you're exclusive to me, right?" Buffy sat on her lap.

"Swear to never make me wear any button, pin, or hat bragging about it, unless you somehow find one that _doesn’t_ clash with everything I own...and yeah, you're the only person who gets to admire this whole package." Cordelia’s arm ensnared petite waist.

"Yay me." Buffy received a small kiss. "And, you’re the only one who gets to, too." Getting contemplative about their predicament again, she frowned. "What if...?" 

Cordelia sighed, squeezing her girlfriend's hand. "We'll answer whatever, and as long as she doesn't explode, we’ll probably survive."

That was all they could do.

"Helps that at least one of us has logic." Buffy was very glad for that.

"Exactly...so since it's impossible to argue with, I’m gonna shower," said Cordelia, trying to weasel. "You go ahead down and, fill me in later."

Buffy shook her head, smirking. "Nice try." Beat. "She probably does think I'm into 'Biker Chicks', doesn't she?"

It was a typical stereotype, which was why they had to have this talk. To show her mother that they were still Buffy and Cordelia, and not suddenly a category. With the exception of a few changes they wouldn't dare undo, they were the same people as always.

They had to make Joyce see that their feelings weren't a phase. Or else she'd never completely hear what they were going to tell her. And that would be bad.

Buffy looked at her door—beyond it, her relationship with her mother hung in the balance. She'd already decided she wasn't giving up Cordelia, so they couldn't afford an explosion. She could only hope her faith in her mom was well-founded.

Taking a deep breath, she knew it was time to see. "Let's do this."

* * *

 

 

They didn't find it amusing. Their morning had begun with an interrogation, only without the “Good Cop-Bad Cop” routine. An unreadable mother was both cops in one, and more horrifying.

Willow, Oz and Amy however, were just confused by Xander's miniature show. Two fish-sticks were being held upright on a cafeteria tray. The food moved and intertwined in various ways as he provided commentary for his audience.

"Oh, Buffy, kiss me!" The processed nutrition was mashed together. "Take my nude, supple bod and never stop...ahhh!"

He dropped them and picked up a straw, “walking” it over. "Mother, I can explain! She was snake-bit and I was just sucking out the poison!"

He then moved the bendy part of the straw up and down. "My first-born has been defiled! Whatever shall I do?"

"Is that it?" Cordelia asked with narrowed eyes.

He chuckled, grinning. "Scene!"

She gave him the shoulder punch to end all shoulder punches, from her seat beside him. "Moron."

He rubbed his aching flesh gingerly. "You said she was cool about it."

"I said she _seemed_ cool about it," Buffy corrected from her spot on Cordelia's lap. All the girls had used their partners as seats. "All she did was nod...it wigged."

"But you said she didn't yell," added Willow, thinking that would help.

"She could still wanna disown me."

"You can always stay at my house," her girlfriend offered sympathetically, "because I know what my mother would say: 'A girl? How brave. I don't know where in the world anyone gets the idea that those people want to be men. My stylist is gay, and adorably feminine—do you see her at your meetings?'"

She shook her head, sighing. "And _that's_ why we haven’t talked since I was three."

Buffy frowned. "Least she's just clueless."

"Hey, as long as your mom doesn't try to axe-murder you or switch your bodies, everything'll probably be okay," Amy contributed, grinning weakly.

"Yeah, let's not forget whose mom won 'Most Homicidal Parent Ever’ around here," Xander supported his girlfriend.

"Puts things in perspective," Oz commented.

"I guess it kinda does," smiled Buffy. "But thanks to 'Mom issues,' there's no way I'm passing the History test today."

"Don't say that!" exclaimed Willow. "You're gonna pass it if I have to sweat blood."

"Do you think you're likely to?" Xander wondered. "’Cause I'd like to be elsewhere."

"It was only 'metaphor' blood," she clarified.

"I think you'd sweat 'cute' blood," her boyfriend believed.

She gave him a smile, and then spoke to Buffy. "Next period after my computer class, we'll cram ‘til we can’t hold our pencils anymore."

"Boy, Willow, you've really got the teaching bug—taking over Computer Class while Miss Calendar's out, tutoring..." Cordelia realized.

Willow smiled broadly. "I love it; I really do."

"Speaking of love," Xander started, "if you weren't satisfied with my portrayal of your night of hot and steamy...uh, steaminess, then how's about a little—?"

"How about never in this life?" Cordelia fired back sternly.

"Fine...if you wanna watch inaccurate, 'Food Theater,' go ahead and reject me." He reached for Amy. "I'll just have to turn to my very own Black Magic Woman, for some comfort and lovin'."

Amy tried to dodge his fingers, laughing.

"Let me caress you..." he requested with a Pepe Le Pew accent.

Snyder interrupted, coming over. "That's enough of that." He looked at them all. "Are we having a chair shortage?"

"I didn't read anything about...oh," Willow said, and they all found separate seats. "We get it."

"These public displays of affection are not acceptable in my school—this isn't an orgy, people, it's a classroom," he informed the gang.

"Yeah," Buffy sarcastically agreed, glancing around. "Where they teach 'Lunch.'"

Snyder glared at her. "Just give me a reason to kick you out, Summers...just give me a reason."

When he was gone, Cordelia scowled. "How about because you're a tiny, impotent Nazi with a bug up his butt the size of an Emu?"

"Sums it up," her girlfriend nodded, finding a hand to hold underneath the table.

"Don't you think?" 

* * *

 

 

_\- How long has this been going on? -_

_\- When did you know that you...? -_

_\- Was that...your first time? -_

_\- Do your parents know? -_

_\- You're teenagers—it's natural to be curious.  -_

_\- You what? Oh.  -  
_

_\- You both should...sleep. Just sleep.  -_

 

That was all Joyce could remember saying as she took a break in the gallery’s storage room, perched on a packing crate. She hadn't said anything she regretted. And she could have, given how she'd found out.

Of course, just because she chose her words carefully didn't mean she was comfortable with it. Did she think it was wrong? No, not wrong, just...different.

Joyce was out of her depth here. She’d noticed if a woman was attractive before—and been jealous, envious—but _being_ attracted was something she didn’t get. Her daughter wasn’t expecting her to, though. Buffy just expected her to accept that she was.

Considering Joyce had never entertained the possibility until last night, that was a rather tall order.

Going into her purse, she pulled out a bracelet and a locket, and held them in her hand. They were supposedly evidence of how serious Cordelia and Buffy were, and were going to be. The girls gave them over temporarily, hoping she'd become swayed.

The bracelet had been a birthday gift, the locket a Valentine's gift. At least somebody’d enjoyed their date. Joyce’s had gone nowhere.

Opening the golden heart, she couldn’t deny the picture inside. Their smiles were genuine and contagious. It was real; they were real.

She’d picked up on something when Cordelia brought her sick daughter home a week ago. Granted, she wasn't the most observant person in the world, but she was glad she’d had an inkling before walking in on them. Which given her parenting history, counted very little, she realized.

But because her flight was cancelled, Buffy was traumatized. Well, if there hadn’t been any sex going on in the house, it could've been avoided. She’d put her foot down about that.

Cordelia was a nice girl (albeit somewhat tactless), and the way she'd hovered protectively over Buffy afterward, it was clear she cared. From what they both said, they were caught off-guard, too. She clicked the locket shut at that thought, as Carol came in.

* * *

  

“Joyce, the new—“ Her friend and employee stopped upon seeing the jewelry, and whistled. "Yow...they look pricey. And you don’t splurge, so tell me you stole 'em."

"Yeah, that's just the kind of change I want in my life. Who’d suspect that a forty-two-year old gallery owner moonlights as a jewel thief?" Joyce joked.

"Nobody. ‘Art thief’ would be the obvious side gig. You’d throw them all off," Carol smirked. She was three years younger, and rather liberal. "You gonna dish, or what?"

"They're my daughter's." Joyce hesitated, then, "And...her girlfriend's."

"No kidding?" Carol had the briefest of reactions. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Cordelia Chase."

That did get a reaction—an impressed one.

"A Chase, huh? Buffy must be something special to snag one of them. Good for her." Carol looked at her carefully. "You're all right with it, aren't you?"

Special? Yeah, Buffy was special.

Joyce laughed lightly. "I'm still deciding. I...I caught them."

"Ohhh..." Carol understood now, grinning. "Sometimes I forget that that's the one thing you _didn't_ try in college."

She winked, then continued. "But I know my jewelry, hon—you don't spend what they probably cost, on a fling."

Joyce had known Carol’s opinion on this subject for twenty years now. But when it came to Buffy, she had to know where she stood, not where someone else did.

She loved her daughter. She’d use all her parental muscles to not screw up.

* * *

 

Buffy's eyes scanned the classroom for anything out of the ordinary, as she would've welcomed it. She saw her friends sitting in their various places, but nothing that would justify her stopping and not taking this test. Cramming helped none.

_Of course_ that was when a vampire would show up, and the universe would tell her to be careful what she wished for. It walked between the desks carrying the sword Buffy had shoved into Angelus’ throat. From tip to hilt, it was covered in his blood. And there was a paper attached, sitting mid-blade.

Buffy noticed the vampire before the rest, as the sword pointed directly at her.

The thing then removed its shawl, revealing its warped, female face. "Tonight...Sundown..." The class looked up. "At the graveyard..."

"Excuse me..." Their teacher tried to take charge.

Now that it was fully exposed to daylight, its body began to smoke.

"You will come to him. You will come to him or more will die." It ignited and started to burn. "Tonight!"

While students leapt from their chairs, Buffy remained not all that shocked.

"His hour is at hand!"

As it combusted, going up in flames, Buffy watched the sword hit the floor.

* * *

  

Giles was back in the library. He wished it could've been for happier reasons, but the end of the world didn't exactly qualify. Jenny was here as well, wheelchair-mobile; he wasn't going to leave her alone.

Kendra had arrived while the kids were in class, once again because a very dark power was about to rise in Sunnydale, confirming what he'd been afraid of ever since he read the same newspaper Angelus had—the same one Buffy took from the mansion. An ancient obelisk had been unearthed, and really shouldn’t have been.

It was taken to the museum yesterday. Today, the curator was found dead, and the obelisk was missing.

Looking up from their readings, he, Jenny and Kendra saw a very uneasy group coming to join them. Buffy held a sword and a piece of paper, which she placed on the table as the others sat down. He wordlessly began to examine the bloodied sword, soon recognizing it as part of his collection.

Next, he picked up what appeared to be an amazingly well done, penciled portrait of Buffy and Cordelia, kissing. But there was sword-made hole in the middle, lined red with blood. It didn't take him long to gasp.

"Yeah, believe it," snapped Cordelia. "The sicko was watching us!"

"And you weren't aware...?" He coughed, seeing their faces. "Oh."

"I would've heard the window open. Plus, blinds," Buffy said, anger in her voice. "Which means he probably came in through the kitchen and left before my mom got home. And I guess since nothing is supposed to be private in my life, yes, we got caught."

"Horrifying as that may have been, I’m sure," Giles’ face was blushing, "you're fortunate that he didn't choose to do anything more than...observe."

"Yuck, Giles!" yelled Cordelia, turning away so she could lean into her girlfriend and receive consolation. "You think we can do it over?"

"Not over, but definitely again," grinned Buffy. "Then again after that...there's a whole 'again' pattern."

"I think I like patterns."

"Right, yes...sorry," apologized Giles, ignoring that they’d distracted themselves. "I meant he could've killed you. However..."                                          

"He didn't," Jenny said. "So let's focus on something else."

"Good idea," Buffy agreed. "Angel sent me an 'Immolation-o-Gram' during class. With presents. Like ‘em?"

"B-but there is good news," Willow entered into the conversation. "You said it was better if we had Angel's blood for the spell, and we have lots now."

"It makes things easier," acknowledged Jenny. "That reminds me—I need to talk to you and Amy about something."

The girls in question looked at each other, and then followed her back into the office. 

* * *

 

 

"Angelus gave us the thing we need to take him down?” Xander asked rhetorically. "Am I the only one who wants to tell the guy just to see the look on his face?"

Buffy smirked, and finally noticed Kendra. She rushed over, deciding to ignore the Jamaican’s “hugging rule.” "Hey, long time no see."

"Hello, Buffy," Kendra smiled.

"When did you get here?"

"A half-an-hour ago or so. I see dat you and Cordelia are...dat you have..." The girl got embarrassed. "I am happy for you."

"Hope my mom is too," Buffy smiled back. "How ya been?"

Kendra shrugged. "Me home is boring compared to dis place."

"Lemme guess—you're here ‘cause of this 'Alfalfa' guy."

"Dat's about it."

"It's Acathla," Giles corrected her, "and the information provided by Kendra's watcher does seem fairly conclusive." He took off his glasses. "I've been on the phone to the museum. The demon is missing, and the curator has been murdered—vampires."

"Then Angelus has it?" Cordelia asked, coming to stand by her girlfriend. "This sucks."

"He called you out, Buf," Xander reminded her.

Buffy thought. "We have to do the spell tonight, before he gets the chance to wake this thing up...can we?"

* * *

  

"Yep." Willow came back out looking nervous, trailed by Amy and Jenny. "Amy and me. ‘Cause I'm a...uh, what am I?"

"An untainted soul," supplied Amy. "I sorta go darker, and this needs purity—I'll be giving her protection."

"But I don't have power like you."

"Sure about that?"

Willow nodded. "Uh huh, so _not_ a witch...and-and what if I blow it?"

"You won't," Jenny assured her. "It doesn’t matter whether you realize it...you have power, Willow. But we'll guide you through it."

Oz put his arm around her. "I’ve got your back, Will—we all do."

"Okay-but-no. Y-you guys totally don’t understand. I mean, I can't tap dance, I can't juggle...I can't even play the maracas right. And if you can't play them, then you're basically just a big dufus," Willow ramblingly insisted.

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't wanna let you down, Buffy."

Buffy joined the circle of support. "If it doesn't work, then I'll do what I hafta do. But it will. If they say you can, then you can."

“Thanks?” Willow bit her lip. "Fine. Somebody better explain the whole 'He will suck the world into Hell' thing, though...just so I know how much pressure to put on myself."

"Well, the, uh," Giles put his glasses back on, "the Demon Universe exists in a dimension separate from our own. With one breath, Acathla will create a vortex, a-a kind of, um...whirlpool that will pull everything on Earth into that dimension, where any non-demon life will suffer horrible and, eternal torment."

"But upside, no more History test," deadpanned Xander.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” admitted Cordelia, “but that’s actually a good point.”

"Or we'll just be doomed to take it in Hell forever," Buffy offered the sobering flipside. "We've got work to do. Main plans, backup plans...we need to move, and we need to move fast."

* * *

  

"Hicce verbis consensus rescissus est," Amy said the final words of the de-invitation spell they’d discovered earlier, as Buffy rummaged through the supply trunk in her room that night. "Should be it."

The Summers’ house was now a “No Angel/Angelus” zone.

"Giles', Willow's, mine...yeah, bases covered," Buffy confirmed, taking stakes, holy water and crosses. "I don't think he'll try anything, him being busy ending the world..."

Amy closed the book. "But you don't wanna take any chances."

"Chances bad." Buffy stuffed the pockets of her jacket with the weaponry. "’Kay, everyone knows what they're doing at the library, so now we just have to—"

"Buffy, they're here!" Cordelia called up. "With um...company."

"Company?" The two girls echoed, and then clambered downstairs.

Reaching the bottom, they found Cordelia staring out the front door as Kendra and Spike dusted a vampire on her porch. Her enemy then turned to grin, while her fellow slayer looked apologetic. Before she could utter a word, her mother came walking up, face white with surprise and fear.

Buffy should've expected this day to get continually worse.

* * *

 

"You're sure it was one of his?" Buffy whispered to Spike, standing next to her sister slayer on the porch. The three of them were alone.

He simply glared at her, and wondered if she was going deaf.

When he and Kendra arrived, they were jumped by one of Angelus' men. It was bad timing with Joyce. But this was the deal—he helped, Buffy didn't kill him for kidnapping and striking her girlfriend.

She’d sent Kendra to bring him, and then she was going to fill them both in on their part of the plan. Except she was about to change it.

"That means he has a bigger force than we saw at the mansion...damn it, it doesn't add up." She watched Kendra hit Spike square in the nose. "Thanks."

"Oy! What was that for?!" he demanded, covering his injury.

"Kendra's big on prevention,” Buffy explained. “So if you were even thinking of _possibly_ talking...do you see where I'm going with this?"

Then she gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Play by my rules, and once this is over, I might let you leave town not in a pail—for good."

"Well, if you like, I can be off right..." He was shown a warning fist. "What's the move, Churchill?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Fine, Roosevelt it is then."

"What do ya want us to do?" Kendra questioned, ignoring him.

"I don't know what Angelus’ game is, but he’s obviously counting on me being at the cemetery...predictable Buffy." Buffy shook her head. "Not this time. I want you two there instead. If he's got friends, get back to the library.

“If he doesn't, he’s diverting, and we'll be ready. Keep him busy as long as you can, and when the spell kicks in—"

"What if it does not?" Kendra interjected.

"Then he’s dead."

"First good idea you've had, Slayer," said Spike, almost sounding impressed. "Once he's all soul-havin' again, you really think they'll be able t’look at that giant forehead without needin' to heave?"

"Go," Buffy said after several moments of silence, not wanting to think about that just now. "Spike, you do anything evil, including evil jay-walking, and she’ll get stake happy."

"Wait for me," Kendra told him forcefully.

"Say 'pretty please,'" he responded cheekily. Standing on the walk, he smiled at Buffy before going away. "Good luck with your mum."

If Buffy’s glare could dust, it so would have.

When he was on the sidewalk, Kendra turned to Buffy, retrieving a long, twisted stake from her pocket. "Here—in case dere is trouble, dis is my lucky stake. I have killed many vampires wit it. I call it, 'Mr. Pointy.'"

Buffy smirked. "You named your stake?"

"Yes," came the flustered reply.

"Remind me to get you a stuffed animal." Buffy accepted the weapon with a smile. "Thanks."

"Watch your back."

"You too."

* * *

  

Amy had quickly left. She didn't need to stick around, nor did she want to.

So Joyce and Cordelia sat on the living room couch, silent, waiting for Buffy. When one of them caught the other looking, they would just smile and then avert their eyes. They could only hear the ticking clock.

"How..." Joyce started, making Cordelia’s heart leap into her throat then fall back down into place. "How was school?"

"Uh...you-you know how it is. You've been through the pain. Except for the occasional monster with slime for brains, which I can say ‘cause the cat's officially shredded the bag, it's always the same, old, boring—" Cordelia stopped as soon as she heard the door shut, and saw her girlfriend enter from the foyer. "Buffy."

"You think I'm boring?" Buffy couldn't resist.

"No, I think you're here." Cordelia was next to her in an instant. "So take over."

They both looked to Joyce. "Buffy, wh-who were those people?"

"Uh, Amy—you remember Amy, right?—and Kendra and Spike," Buffy answered her mother. "Kendra's a slayer—"

"Like what you are?"

"Right," nodded Buffy, unsure how to proceed. "Spike is, um...Spike's a long story."

"But his face was like that man's out there." Joyce couldn't believe what had happened. "Who disappeared."

"They’re...they're vampires, Mom."

"So if you, if you ‘slay’ vam...them, why was he helping that girl? Shouldn't you...?" Joyce trailed off.

"Good question." Buffy turned to Cordelia, expecting her to answer that.

Cordelia opened her mouth, saw the sets of eyes focused on her, then closed her mouth, and glared—before deciding to explore the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Joyce was struggling. "First I find out that you're..." She paused, considering how to say it. "Dating a girl...and now you're some kind of...what? A-a superhero? Next you'll probably tell me one of your friends is a witch."

Her sigh was involuntary. "Is this real?"

Buffy knelt in front of her. "Uh huh, it's all real. And I know it's a lot to take in...it-it was for me too, but you gotta trust me. I'm not crazy, we weren't all delusional, and I know what I'm doing." Beat. "Most of the time."

"I was going to talk to you; I had it all planned out. I thought for once I could pretend I knew how to relate to my daughter, be a good mom. Compared to this, having a conversation with you and Cordelia seems like the easiest thing in the world." Joyce smiled a sad, defeated smile. "And now I'm lost again, because...I really don't know you, do I?"

"At least I'm not smoking that wacky dope us teenagers are so into," joked Buffy, but she felt horrible. "It's not your fault. I wanted to tell you before, but there're these rules. I didn't advertise my job to my friends. They sorta had the dots connected for them the first time they got attacked. When—"

Joyce realized, "It started before we moved."

"Some days I'm glad, other days..." Buffy trailed off. It was too complicated, and she hated to do this, but she didn't have time. "Um, I don't wanna go, but I...have slayer stuff to do. I _promise_ we'll have that talk when I get back."

"You can't just dump this on me and then leave, Buffy."

"I don't want to, really, it's just...if I don't deal now, then I'll have to figure out how to save the world later, and you know how much I hate extra work. Ooh!" Buffy had a great idea just then. "Cordelia can stay with you—she knows the basics."

"Don't you think she'll mind?"

"Probably," grinned Buffy, "but she'll do it anyway."

It was a big leap of faith on Joyce's part, but what choice did she have?

"If you have to...then go."

Buffy hugged her. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, honey." Joyce‘s hug got tighter. "Are you going to be okay? You'll be careful, right?"

"This is like, routine for me—it'll be a piece of cake." _'I hope.'_

* * *

  

Angelus walked out from behind the mausoleum expecting to see Buffy, but instead found Spike and Kendra—she chose now to gain some intelligence? For the first time since being let out, he wasn't quite so confident. She had a game of her own, or else they wouldn't be here. It left an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"Oh," Spike smirked, "I think we surprised the git."

"I don't remember inviting you," Angelus said to them both.

"She wanted to stop by, but she had a thing—shagging the missus, I think," said Spike. "Asked us to come have some fun for her, get our jollies out. Couldn't turn the girl down."

"What happened to you, Spike? Working with the take-out?" Angelus narrowed his eyes. "I'm disappointed."

"Yeah, breaks my code...'cept we both got the same, nasty prickle in our sides."

"I don't think you had a choice." Angelus smiled when he saw the veins become visible in Spike’s neck.

"None of dis matters," Kendra spoke, "because you will not survive dee night."

She moved to attack, Spike right behind.

* * *

  

Buffy ran through the library doors, finding Willow already reciting the spell and sitting on the table, Indian-style, in the middle of a circle of blue powder. That same powder formed a pentagram on her forehead, and a small bowl with Angel's blood and other ingredients sat between her legs. Amy was spreading incense around her.

Miss Calendar (wearing a cross and garlic) was in her wheelchair, parchment at hand, making sure Willow’s wording stayed accurate.

The men were all armed. Oz with a staff that had a sharpened end, Giles with a dagger, and Xander with his trusty _Super Soaker_. She was glad they’d actually paid attention when she called and told them to be prepared.

Handing out stakes and bottles of holy water, Buffy was careful not to disrupt Willow. This was their only shot—she did _not_ want the fate of the world in her hands. She had enough stress already.

She told everyone, "Spread the water around the table. If we have crashers, I don't want them getting close to—"

Six vampires suddenly appeared by way of the cellar behind the stacks, and one jumped over the railing to stand in front of her.

"So much for 'if,' huh?" Xander said, backing up.

"Buffy!" Willow stopped the spell, eyes darting from vampire to vampire.

"Keep going, Will!" As Buffy punched her opponent, she noticed that they weren't rushing to face her. They’d pushed Oz and Xander aside, and were crowding— "Amy, help Giles!"

Amy looked over, eyes shrouded in darkness. "Diana, disperse the unclean!"

Demons went flying. One hit the counter, two were thrown over it, and another hit and knocked over a bookcase. The last went crashing through the office window.

Buffy swiped the feet of the one she was fighting, and readied Mr. Pointy, starting to think this might just go their way.

* * *

  

"So she's always been able to...be a slayer?" Joyce asked, noting how Cordelia would repeatedly look out the window, or stare at the clock.

"I think it's a ‘puberty’ thing," responded Cordelia distractedly. "Like...you know you're gonna get breasts, but by the time they finally show up, they’re not even worth it anymore, ‘cause then your body just _decides_ to be annoying as hell. Only Buffy didn't realize she could beat things up pre-puberty, and I'm not...uh, making much sense, am I?"

Joyce smiled. "You wanna be there."

"No, I..." Cordelia sighed. "Yeah. I mean, I get it. She wants me to be safe, and you to be okay with everything, and _I_ _know_ I’m the world’s crappiest fighter. But she’s not. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually, kind of amazing. And she'll...come back.

“She gets so stubborn, though. It drives me nuts. If she does something dumb..."

Buffy had grown into this inspiring person, and Joyce missed it. The school librarian apparently knew her better. Buffy was never a hoodlum, never hung out in the wrong crowd...she was just a teenager with a lot more responsibility than cleaning her room and taking out the trash.

Joyce had unknowingly punished her for saving people's lives, and it wasn't even as if her daughter asked for the job. Everything was going to change, had to, whether she was prepared or not. Where did being “bi” rank now? Somewhere near the bottom.

The fact that your only child could die at any given moment caused you to reprioritize quickly. Joyce also just found common ground, and sympathized with Buffy’s girlfriend.

"I've got news for you...Buffy's always been stubborn."

"Tell me about it!" Cordelia said, throwing her hands in the air.

Joyce laughed. "When she was five, she wouldn't let me teach her how to tie her shoes—she _had_ to learn on her own. She’d get so frustrated it broke my heart, but one day, she just did it. Didn't make a big fuss, didn't wait for me to say anything, she just put them on, then we went shopping."

Cordelia smirked. "Color me not shocked."

"Sounds like you know her pretty well."

"I still think she's got things she keeps, hidden or whatever, but nobody gets away from me when I want something. She’s gonna crack," Cordelia swore.

"I believe you." Every time Joyce looked into this girl’s eyes, she saw the forcefulness, but now she saw something else. "Also sounds like we both know how easy—and sometimes how exhausting—loving Buffy can be."

With a small snicker, Cordelia nodded. "I didn't even know I wanted this until she...well, it was crazy. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t, you know, real...because it is. For me and for her. So I'll put up with Buffy for however long she wants to put up with me," spilled the words from her mouth. After they were out, what Joyce said fully registered. "Hey..."

"Cordelia, would you do me a favor?"

Clearing her throat nervously, Cordelia thought she’d stepped into a trap. "Of course...what?"

"Go watch out for my little girl." Joyce went into the dining room then, and came back with two things she'd held onto long enough. "Here, don’t think I need these anymore."

A smile appeared on Cordelia's face as she put the bracelet in her pocket, and her necklace back where it belonged. But once the touching moment was over, she realized there was a slight problem. If she was going to help Buffy—

"Uh, do you have anything that I could like, whack with?"

Joyce raised her eyebrows.

At which Cordelia sighed, “What is it with people?"

* * *

  

Xander yelled out. His arm was just broken in two places. Rather than give into the searing pain, he remembered he still had one good arm, which continued to hold his weapon of choice. He twisted from the vampire's grip, and before either of them realized, the barrel of the _Super Soaker_ was in its mouth.

He was running on some kind of “fear-powered” autopilot.

"You look thirsty."

He pressed the trigger, and a seemingly endless stream of holy water found its way down the vampire's throat. Within seconds it was smoking, and then combusting from the inside out. Inhaling some dust, he began to cough.

"They can't suck the life outta ya, so they kill ya with asthma. Good one."

Free of immediate danger, he surveyed the situation. Thanks to him, they were down to four vampires. Soon to be three, if Oz could find an opening and plant the staff where it needed to go.

Things could be a lot worse than a broken arm if they hadn’t expected this. Both their girlfriends were very involved in what they were doing. Amy was expending most of her energy shielding Willow, and Willow was at the point of no return.

The hacker-turned-witch had an eerie focus. Words flew from her lips in a language Xander didn't understand, and he didn't think she did either. The blue powder swirled around her now, transforming into bright, blue light—the image on her head did the same.

She sat unaware of the commotion around her. He and Miss Calendar watched as she lifted her hands into the air, then shoved them into the bowl as the light started to flux.

Oz did it—they were down to three vampires. One of which was advancing on Miss Calendar. Xander screamed her name, hurried as fast as he could, but Giles was already handling the trouble.

Giles thrust his dagger into the vampire's back violently. As it turned, he removed the blade, and staked it with satisfaction. Two left.

Xander cradled his injured arm and reminded himself not to make jokes at Giles' expense ever again.

* * *

 

Buffy had the remaining vampires covering her front and back, over by the counter. Just as she got one down, the other attacked. She couldn't duck and dodge forever.

"Buffy, duck!"

But apparently, a voice that sounded strangely like Cordelia's thought she could. Not having any better ideas, Buffy obeyed. Somehow the one in front of her ended up on the ground. She looked, seeing that it was indeed her girlfriend, brandishing a nine-iron.  Must have been from the set her mother never used.

Buffy thought it better not to question, and only smiled. "Think you sliced it."

"What?" Cordelia asked, hitting the vampire repeatedly.

"Never mind." Having the odds evened out, Mr. Pointy made quick work of the one at Buffy’s back, while Cordelia's victim still covered its face. "Can I kill him yet?"

"It’s under control already." Cordelia snatched Mr. Pointy, dropped the club, and knelt down to finish the job. "Nobody messes with my girlfriend."

"Isn't that my line?"

Cordelia grinned, straightening and brushing the dust off. "You're not the—"

She couldn't finish her sentence, because when the lights went out, her vocal chords went with them. Everyone looked to Willow. The only things visible in the dark were her glowing, blue eyes.

* * *

  

Unexpectedly, Angelus found himself flung into a tree. He sat on the grass, stunned, even as Spike belted him in the face again and again.

"This is for Dru," said Spike, snarling. "Take her from me, will you? She was mine!"

Angelus laughed, and just kept laughing...he couldn't feel a thing.

"Shut it! I'll—"

"Spike, my boy, I can do this all night," Angelus smiled, covered in his own blood. "Because guess what? He's gone!"

Kendra stood next to Spike, breathing heavily. "And if dey are successful, den he will be back, and you will not."

Angelus' face fell, and shifted. "Not again!"

He growled, sprung to his feet, and they jumped back.

Buffy wasn't getting out of this with no casualties. With single-minded determination, he roughly grabbed Kendra by her ponytail, not giving her a chance to fight. Then he snapped her neck with ease and let the body fall to the ground.

Spike looked on, mostly pissed that that wasn't his kill. "Say goodbye, mate."

"Either way, you're blowing in the wind," pointed out Angelus.

He used Spike’s hesitation to shove past him, running in the direction of the school.  Neither gave the lifeless slayer a second thought.

* * *

 

Willow was sharing her soul with Angel's. She couldn't describe it any other way. His was so weak, so battered. A century's worth of torment, loneliness and harsh memories were open to her now. His fear, his guilt, his overwhelming sadness...it was all there before he became a vampire.

She could see it, feel it. For someone as young and cheery as she was, it was too much. She understood everything; she understood why he had to come back.

He had to cleanse his soul, had to achieve some sort of peace, no matter how long it took. So she held on, allowing him to gain strength from her. Tears and sobs wracked her body, but still, she held on.

She could almost make out Snyder and two security guards with flashlights. Didn't stop her, though. Neither did Angelus—he was here, too. She felt him heading for her.

And she stared him down. He froze, his eyes turning as blue as hers. A few seconds later, she was passed out, the lights were on, and Angel was back.

* * *

  

"Will!" Xander exclaimed as he, Giles and Cordelia joined Amy and Miss Calendar.

Oz went to get water, and Buffy walked to Angel, looking him over cautiously.

"Where's Kendra?" she asked.

When he cast his eyes downward and didn't answer, her eyes went wide with shock.

No. Damn Spike for being right. She turned away from him and joined her friends in fussing over an extremely tired Willow.

No one paid any mind to the speechless Snyder.

* * *

  

Angel didn’t stand alone for very long. A badly dressed man wearing a hat too small for his head appeared out of nowhere and came over to him.

"Whistler?" he questioned.

"Been rough on ya, huh?" Whistler said. "Think it's time to go—next job’s waiting, if you want it. But sheesh...clean yourself up."

"If?" Angel accepted the offered handkerchief and wiped the blood from his face.

"Got a soul, don'tcha? Gives you free will. But personally, I wouldn’t overstay my welcome if I were you. You did what you had to," Whistler looked to the ceiling, "and it ain’t gonna be forgotten."

"But I..." It was all fresh in Angel’s mind.

"You tell me what you wanna do."

"You're leaving?" A conscious Willow asked, standing wobbly. Her boyfriend held her steady. "You can't leave."

Angel smiled sadly. "You don't want me here."

"Says who? You've got things to do, still—we need help," she told him. "Bad stuff happened, scary stuff. People died. Because of Angelus though, not you. It stinks that you hafta live with...everything, but since you do, it won’t matter where you go. You’re always gonna remember. After a hundred years, you think you woulda figured that out."

"You'll be uncomfortable around me," he tried.

"We already were! Even before we knew you had a 'grr' face!” she exploded, and then looked apologetic. “Uh, s-sorry. Didn’t mean to sound all, ‘Jerk-y Willow.’" She got up next to him, and began to poke his chest. "But I didn't just speak a language I don't even know, _and_ with the lights, so you could run away, mister.

“Do you wanna be known as a-a quitter vampire? ‘Cause, that’s exactly what you’ll be. Everywhere, everybody’s gonna say, ‘Look, it’s Angel—hey, is-isn’t he one of those Quitter Vampires? Ooh-no. Let’s not talk to him until he goes away.

“See? So you better stay right the heck here.”

Whistler was taken aback. "Feisty kid."

"Don't make me use my resolve face," she warned him.

He looked perplexed, then got hit full force.

“We’ll, uh, talk again. Soon." He backed out the doors.

"Collapsing now." Willow was quickly given a chair, and she fell into it. “Whew.”

Every single member of the gang had smirks on their faces, including Angel.

Snyder stormed over in a rage. "You're all expelled! And fired! You damaged school property—"

They just stared—his cell phone was ringing.

"Gonna get that?"

"Quiet, Harris." Their principal then answered it angrily. "What?" He turned ghostly. "No, sir ... Of course not ... No, they're ... Oh, I ... Yes, I understand ... Absolutely ... Thank you, Mr. Mayor." Hanging up, he glared, and then left with the guards. "Let's go."

The weary people just shrugged collectively.

"He's such a troll," stated Cordelia.

* * *

  

The Council sent people to take Kendra's body. Buffy was thinking about that as she sat on her porch with Cordelia weeks later. She’d never gotten to say a proper goodbye to her or to Spike, who'd taken off. Wise decision on his part.

She kept thinking she could've stopped it, but she had to quit torturing herself. Slayers died. Even she did. Just the way it was. She hoped Kendra was at peace.

Angel was living at the mansion now, and handled disposing of Acathla. Despite Willow's rant, it’d take a while to warm up to him again.

Nobody was jobless or school-less, that was the good news. She didn't care what had changed Snyder's mind; she was just glad it was all over. The emotional trauma would be dealt with after Finals.

More good news? She was wearing her bracelet again. She and Cordelia survived “The Talk” with her mother. Joyce had been understanding, supportive...Buffy's faith paid off. Well, to a point. The “No sex in the house” rule was a problem. A problem with many, many loopholes, but still a problem.

Girlfriend-Parent Bonding (by complaining about her) was another problem. Though frightening, if it helped her mom deal, then she could also.

* * *

 

  

"Do we have to sit out here? I feel like I'm practicing for when I’m eighty," complained her girlfriend. "The last thing I need is to start obsessing about where I’m eventually gonna sag."

"Where d’you wanna go then?" Buffy asked, smirking.

"We could find another back row to have another cliché make-out session in," suggested Cordelia, being not-so-much opposed to clichés anymore.

"What if we see Giles and Miss Calendar?"

They both frowned.

"My house—we could go to my house," came the next suggestion. "Have you seen the hot tub?"

Buffy smiled coyly. "Can't say I have."

"That’s it—we’ve _got_ to go," insisted Cordelia. "Everything's right there in the pool house. Mini-fridge, mini-bar..."

"But what if I don't just wanna see?"

"Guess you'll hafta get in," Cordelia said, her grin beginning to match Buffy’s. "Which means I'll have to, because we both know you can’t be left alone. Or unsupervised."

Buffy made a face. "For the record, I’m resent-y." Beat. "Should I bring my suit?"

"You can _borrow_ one of mine...if my parents come home." Cordelia kissed her then, smiling seductively. "They won't."

Buffy coughed. "Why-why don't we, um, now? Yeah, now’s good for me."

"Maybe you oughta get your shoes on first. I'd help, but you’ll just be super bitchy all day," said Cordelia, barely keeping a straight face.

"Too late," Buffy almost growled. Why'd her mom have to tell that story?

Cordelia raced into the house, a tiny blonde on her heels.

It had definitely been a long year. It wasn't without its share of dark spots (technically it wasn't even over), yet overall, it'd turned out pretty okay.


	14. Epilogue

Finals were over—the dreaded wait for report cards had begun. In the Bronze however, no one was that concerned. Summer was here, meaning freedom. For Buffy, it meant she only had to work nights.

They were hanging out, acting their age, savoring the moment. Xander was especially happy, because his girlfriend healed his broken arm faster than medical knowledge could comprehend. Coupled off at a table, the gang was temporarily missing Willow and Oz, who were just coming in.

Willow carried a yearbook she’d bought the day before exams. She didn't get why she was the only one among them who had—nostalgia was important. Besides, her pictures had made it, and she knew her friends would be excited to see one in particular.

Students voted on various categories every year: “Nicest Person” (which she happened to win), “Most Laid Back” (which her boyfriend won), etc. Two other people in the gang nabbed a category too, and she'd had the perfect snapshot.

She set the yearbook down when she reached the table, and began flipping through.

"Hey, Will, Oz," Xander greeted them. "Whatcha got there?"

One day about a month ago, Willow had her camera with her when she’d caught Buffy and Cordelia talking in the hallway. Cordelia had just gotten out of a post-gym-class shower, and Buffy had been riveted. It was no secret that Cordelia managed to look irresistible whenever, wherever.

Asking them to pose on the spot, Willow thought they'd be flushed and nervous—they weren’t. Finding the page, she pointed:

 

 

Xander choked.  

"Speaks for itself," Oz gave his endorsement.

“You guys deserve it,” congratulated Willow.

Amy nodded. "Yeah, that's not debatable."

"Damn straight," Cordelia readily concurred. "And as long as they don’t forget it, they can call us 'freaks' until their skin clears up. Which’ll be never."

Buffy smiled, meeting her lips and then looking at Willow. "You probably clinched us the title, Will."

"Yeah, you should 'photo-take' professionally," encouraged the now-able-to-speak Xander. "Ooh, centerfolds—but artsy. You’ve got all sides covered that way. ‘Deep’n’layered’ for them that critic, and for the rest of us, any layers are...guh...optional."

“Okay, no more playing nice,” said Buffy, permitting her girlfriend to end the cease-fire. “Go. Hit. Stopping is optional. Like layers.”

Cordelia’s eyes joined Buffy’s in narrowing at Xander, hers gleaming with renewed, vengeful joy.


End file.
